Best Herr Poems

March dust, worth a King's ransom.
March grass never was handsome.
Mad as a Herr goes by Ma'am.
Enters a lion, exits a lamb.

—————


For the March in Poetry...

Read more of this work...

You were a very bright star in post-war Germany.
On both films and stage, you garnered popularity.
Most men did not consider you a raving beauty.
However, with...

Read more of this work...

Herr Vilfred consults 
his mirror.
Gawks long at himself 
in horror.


His limp receding, 
graying hair,
no longer that of a 
debonair.


Gone's the tousled look
of long ago
that used...

Read more of this work...