By jwb71913
Date: 2003 Apr 09
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[[2003.04.09.04.35.11411]]

Dad's House

The silence deafens, thoughts race
What's with this hormonal pace?
Heartbeat skipping, breathing funny
Dogwoods bloom, days are sunny

Must be spring, and young men's thought
Turns in the direction where it ought
Laying suit to maidens fair
Ironing t-shirts, cutting hair

Phone is ringing all the  time
We've barely time to cook and dine
Rapid breath and sweaty knees
Romance comes with birds and bees

My house is clean and welcoming
No more trash or anything
Soul is open as my door
I invite friendship, nothing more

Oh my son you're just fourteen
I really am not being mean
But you must wait your turn to play
Because the phone's for me today