This Empty House

This empty house
on this dead end street.
These empty walls,
these bare floors.
They call out your name.

No woman’s touch,
no smell of perfume,
no flowers in vases,
no doilies or pretty lace.
No nothing, what a shame.

Candles stay packed away,
no romantic dinners,
no fire burning anywhere,
no berries or the bubbly.
This all sounds pretty lame.

These all lead to an empty heart,
my body aches for you,
This empty house
with these bare walls.
I hear the echoes of your name.