Yes, I will keep you warm
in my cosy lap
and I will muss up your hair.

And no riches are yours
nor mine in this life.
Only the one jewel
which is dressed in
old shirts
and fills musty old sweaters.
They add to your beauty
and cling to your skin.

In the wee hours then
I will be in the kitchen,
baking bread in the morn
as you like it - from corn.

May I feed you in bed
like we stuff the wild ducks?
You shall have the best morsels.

While you slept, the bread baked.
I was thanking my God
for loving me so
that he gave me YOU.

For L

Herbert Nehrlich

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/it-s-not-much-but-i-m-yours/