Still, It Builds – Poem by Robert Allen Beckvall


Robert Allen Beckvall – Still, It Builds

Visions of your body, turn me on suddenly
We old heathens, crusty senior citizens
Do we have a right to passion?
Our teenage daughter says, “Gross!”
Still, it builds like an old volcano, steady in it’s lava push to the top
When I pleasure myself, it is with thoughts of you in my mind
As the child is growing up, we do have moments we can steal for
If the knees be willing, and lubrication be had
Still, it builds like the small kernel of an idea
into this story or that piece of poesy
Like life, there you are right under my nose and member
To be loved, still

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