The Hunt
some quick shakespearian style poetry
something i got inspired to write on the fly texting witha lady
aye doth the beauty call not with words no, but with a glance a tiny glimpse of her eye
oh doth the male swoon feeling the lure sink in some oh aye some never escape
fewer still doth the lure draw them to greater prose of both their body or their skills to pad her bower
nay these males no they are like the fall fruit an just as perishable
sweet upon the tongue an aye for the gratis of the eye to wander but no her prey is even more elusive indeed
the one who for her flash of her lure there is no stirring of the calm waters
ohh doth the lure then turn upon its mistress drawing her to the calm stillness
who what male could not be drawn to this oh she must know .. thus the true hunt begin