Riff on The Umbrella Lady's Thorny Valentine
Just because I'm old
(My skin is rough)
And because my flesh is coarse and cold
(My skin will slough)
Laying next to you
My naked find
Doesn't mean I feel less
Spooning your behind;
My dry calloused hand
On your soft breast,
Marveling at its weight
At its heft,
Doesn't mean
Because my bones are old,
That I lack a certain ardor
As I swimmingly enfold;
You're such a blessing
My thorny Valentine
A gift over which I'm obsessing
Oh, horny youth divine;
Come while my erection
Is still stout
Guide it with your hand,
Make it sprout.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem