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H
Herbert Nehrlich
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The boy in the bed of his parents
a treat happened once in a year,
as he slept with the fragrance of mother
while his elders were drinking much beer.
As the party of four little aunties
came a-peeking to utter their Aahs
he pretended, he knew they were seeking
all the innocent beauty of Oz.
And he slept the great sleep of the just,
with the feeling of unending love,
he'd been taught that you do what you must
and you 'd never require a shove.
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