You Asked * Poem by Herbert Nehrlich

You asked my love,
about the time
when you were not,
but it would not be long,
you kissed me,
a kind four second peck
my lips were as surprised
as I.
'Twas a gesture though,
it meant Good Day.
The sun set near the coast
and we were now observed
by beams of le fromage,
and smiling waves,
perhaps they giggled, eh?
Some drops of rain fell
gently and you knew it first,
our scent would now be changed
enriched by salt and sand
as silence came and walked
right next to you and me,
I thought I heard a drum
as you were deep in thought
I could have walked
until the sun would peek
again, perhaps you could have too.
The warming rays felt kind,
a gentle touch, so much like
your warm fingers in the night,
'twas another day
and there was love, the word
itself unique and open to abuse,
it had arrived,
without fanfare
but it was not
to be denied.
Much later there would be
another kiss,
estranged from those
that folks would call routine.
Its taste was of saliva
and of promises,
there would be thousands
yet to come
It seemed that every atom,
each lovely molecule
sought access to
our warm embrace
and to our eager tongues.
Who would have ever thought
that flutters of those wings
could get to Manitou
who oversees all love
close to the waters of the sea,
persuade him to make one
of two distinct and separate hearts,
and now we have our drum,
wherein we snuggle
in the cold of night
and other times,
you asked my love,
what do we love about
and of ourselves,
I, in my naiveté,
propsed your eyes,
and, certainly the twins,
and yes your skin,
so soft,
and then your scent,
mixed with the sand
and salt,
but you just smiled
and kissed me
longer,
and my own lips
were not surprised.
It was, of course
intangibles, you said,
or did you intimate
that we could not explain,
so, we concluded,
walking once again,
watched by the moon,
(yes Le Fromage) ,
and teased by raindrops
and the scent
of you and I.