L is for lonely.
But do not list or leap! Linger a little, and think ahead, of liberty and a link with luck. Listen to the river's flow. Lap a lip over lasagne. Labor and learn. There will be a Lancelot for the lovely lady.
Look, this lone lad appreciates the large landscape, the latitude of view, the lure of lupine, the longstanding loftiness of the mountains.
It is early, not late.
Life will launch learned, loquacious, laughing lasses and lads to lunar heights, and their luster will light the land.
(No living creature's long term outlook was harmed in the making of this post. I accept less than limited liability for using their likenesses.)