No Greater Love Poem by Herbert Nehrlich

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.