I love the early morning so,
a time when dawn arrives
on velvet feet,
when owls retire
dreaming of blue nightingales,
and feather thin first rays
peek through the spiderweb
into our room.
You sleep and I am here,
enthralled,
I watch your twins
beneath the nighty,
as they rise
you breathe
and I attempt to synchronise
my own with you,
because we are
a one,
a single heart,
the shape
of a huge drum
lives deep inside us
I do succeed
more often
and it is because
my love cannot be seen,
or measured
with convention's tools,
you talked about
your warts,
when first we met,
and now, you trust
my eyes, which we do share
as well,
and know that there are none.
I love these early morning dreams,
though these are dreams
that have no link
to fantasy,
to make believe.
Psst, sometimes
it happens just
before you wake,
you turn to me,
eyes firmly closed
and sigh.
It's when I hurry
just to wipe away
my happy tears.
There cannot be
a greater love.
H.x... did cha know.. that out of dreams springs not fantasy but reality.. Look closely... dREAms... see how it grows into REALITY... aroha Dxx
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Dare I say - perfection of poetic prose here - it is really enthralling and you begin it with a pleasure close to my own heart - ' I love these early mornings ' - - I have to have this among my favourites......... thank you for the show of your heart - - beautiful............ - - - From Fay....xx