It was as if my trusted hand
by Herbert Nehrlich
had sought and reached autonomy
and snapped that old familial band
then wandered off, just to be free.
Why, so I asked, the need to leave
the body took good care of it
it was a wintry, snowy eve
I'd used it then, with charme and wit
when from the darkness of the woods
from shades of fiction's paradise
a maiden stepped -she had the goods!
I saw her body and her eyes.
My hand, now separate from me,
its motherboard and full alert
advanced uphill from bony knee
as if in search of a big hurt.
A healing hand it had become,
I watched as fingers did the walk
as dew reflected, I was numb
and could not breathe and barely talk
the show was carnal in extreme.
Two teary eyes were in a blur
and dreaming of the sweetest cream,
we could not take our eyes off her.
A sudden stirring caught my mind
another part was game to go
it stretched and grew, so that a blind
and dead man could not miss the show.
Though I had never known the fact
that parts could see without two eyes
it was what bones and muscles lacked
what kept them loyal, also wise.
This time was different, pheromones
were heard to come from deep inside
such lovely, sweet and magic tones
they left the entrance open wide.
That day I could have lost those two
if sanity had been away
but from experience I knew
that one must come to really play.
So, with a cry of 'I agree',
I joined the fun where rebels played
and re-united but still free
we were together, and we stayed.