Herbert Nehrlich 2
Turbulence In The Land Of Gravida - Poem by Herbert Nehrlich 2
Two souls, one of the softer sex
may link through circumstances,
and soon the silly question begs
an answer to shy glances.
They seek compatibility
though rarely ever find it
the demon called civility
hides slyly right behind it,
however, all this matters not
the drive is Nature's way
to propagate (and fill each cot)
and Eros has his say.
Once Mary had a little lamb
don't ask about logistics
as little fish swim o'er the dam
the clime is narcissistic.
What matters though is not the seed
that finds itself in Heaven,
from whence it hailed, and if indeed
its home was little Kevin.
And while a woman's scorn is might
her love has no conditions,
it flies the airways like a kite
on a peculiar mission.
But hear, my dear and learned friend
she's given you a clue,
the gist of all is, in the end
she wants a child from YOU.
You, with that little extra lard
have been declared the winner,
to stand there in the honour guard
the one and only grinner.
The highest of all accolades
is trusting one another
love never really masquerades
love always is a mother.
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