Theodore Justice, sitting so tall,
With glasses to cover piercing eyes;
I guess you don’t think at all,
But I surely hear your lonely sighs.

With your velvety vest so neat and sleek,
What about those soft black britches?
I often wonder and think to myself,
Were you born to a life of riches?

We can dance all night around the room,
And I will not step on your toes;
We waltz away the cares of the world,
We don’t need any of those.

Theodore Justice, you sit all day,
With a look so serious upon your face;
But I know the love that’s deep in your heart,
And you let it escape at the right time and place.

 

 

     

 

©Sandra S. Oidtman
2006