just a little something i wrote on the fly to a lady ive been texting she said very shaksperish in feel

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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