It was five o'clock in the morning <br />when I saw her, and, sweetly, adorning <br />her pearly white flesh <br />was a fisherman's mesh <br />it was black and the colour of mourning. <br /> <br />And the voice of the Father boomed <br />'For my temple you need to be groomed, <br />it is one thing to pray <br />but incur my dismay <br />and your future is certainly doomed.' <br /> <br />He was reading the ads on the throne <br />through a window the morning sun shone. <br />But no tissue at all <br />on the bum-paper roll <br />so he ordered some on his phone. <br /> <br />I was dreaming about old age <br />and was drifting into a small rage <br />but deliberation <br />brought realisation <br />if I'm old I must be a sage. <br /> <br />The old man said there's always a drop <br />that will fall out right after I stop. <br />So what is the riddle, <br />whenever I piddle <br />my undies do act like a mop? <br /> <br />On Thursday I'll get my new wheels <br />and today I am head over heels <br />into revving the Hemi <br />since the Hemi says 'lemme' <br />and Mahnaz surely knows how it feels.<br /><br />Herbert Nehrlich<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/loveable-limericks/
