The doctor's not in
But he makes housecalls
Especially upon young ladies
Who read one another's sacred
Journals, hoping to steal dreams
Dreams of callipygian
Dreams of tryst
Dreams of embrocation
Dreams of frisson
Each able to be held
In the hand, but
Lost to the wind
Father Physician
Is a savior of sorts
Curing them of all their ills
Yet, only for a day
Tomorrow the mind
Shall play tricks on them
Once again