Lady L the fire's fair....cross her and beware...for eyes so ruefull and true....a cinder she will leave of you...her walk her grace....every heart she doth make race....her beauty so beyond compare... when anger rises her fire does flare....with just a simple kiss....from this mortal coil she will make you miss...be you ever graced with her sexual pleasure....i assure you there can be no equal measure....her body her curve make men and women squeal....make her list tho and you shall be upon her heel.....cross not this elemental made flesh....lest your life be truly at test.....her passion which cries out to the moons...as that same voice can spell your doom.
A poem for L`aquera