Herrmann B. Reminiscing
The ship was huge,
by Herbert Nehrlich
a feast for youthful eyes.
As penniless he walked
and talked, and danced,
until the day that fate did smile.
The word was BINGO, yes
and, amateurs do win,
from time to time.
He now had moved into a class
where wine was near the dinner plate,
two tens and one green five,
not wisely spent though, 't must be said.
He met, though briefly, a young man,
of earnest face and faintblue beard,
a budding scientist well on his way
to freedom far away, the USA.
They landed soon, admiring her,
the statue of all liberty, so tall.
And took their paths into the wild
and wooley world, intent to stay.
Things soured soon in Michigan,
the money gone, he stole the stamps
to send short letters off to distant towns,
in hopes that one would say Hello,
perhaps they'd send a Greyhound voucher
which would be an answer to it all.
The budding scientist, named Herrmann did,
a package soon arrived the day before
and Christmas was a trifle better then.
The snows of January saw him leave,
into yet deeper layers and a tundra freeze,
and when the bus drove into Station Two, St Paul
he'd made it, after all and still inspite.
He clutched a trinket and a tiny little book,
four decades later he would take another look.
'Bujard' said the inscription and to hold my bony chin
up to the world, it would all be alright.
I put it down just now with a delighted grin,
those days you were my hero, Sir, my shining knight.