Telephone

The telephone rings, I hear it clear

The bell like tone sings loud.

At first it seems a note of fear,

then sounds muffled like in a cloud.

I rise up from the mucky floor,

make my way to my front door.

All the while that telephone rings

all the while my head, it sings.

The door is there, I open it,

No one there as can be guessed.

Now where's that phone?

Thinking, thinking well I'll be blessed

It seems I tripped and fell,

when I heard that telephone bell

I'm not rushing there again answer the call

they can wait on me, no more will I fall.

  © Michael D. Powell