You** Poem by Herbert Nehrlich
You**
You are a portrait painted strictly for the gods,
a poem, with the words made of pure gold.
A heavy symphony that beats the usual odds
and I shall come to you, my hat in hand but bold.
You taste like pudding with a topping of sweet cream
a cherry burgundy to kill the better kind,
we'd make a small but many-scented lustful dream
and stroke your love machine inside a precious mind.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/4/2024 12:51:38 PM # 1.0.0.1119
