Lovescape.
I am soft-sift in thine hands.
Fast as in an hourglass the drift
toward moments of intimate fancy
flows and excites my expectant skin.
I am drawn to need lovescape.
Fired by thy moth-soft voice I try
to flout thine intent of ardent gaze
alluring forsooth my foolish shyness.
I am sealed by thy fervour.
Bathed in desire\'s lusty flavour
and tasting a kiss know for certain
I thee favour and thus shalt capitulate.
Therefore mine Sire prithee
at nightfall if to my chamber thy
feet hasten then fain will I bid thee
enter and bed with my desirous invite.