Lowest, Slowest Lo

As I lay in bed hazing, out the window staring, at the foggy, dewy prairie,
to the vermen steadily grazing,
plain old workmen begrudged by abducted cotton rows of sad, dewy grass,
That gravelly green pasture covered in green giving fuzz,
Reminds me of my cotton silk wearing nymph who plays with the lonely,
denying me my pleasure of undiscovered bluff

My dear angelic figure of hope and riches,
Standing at 4'11, has a trait of genie gentleness that would kill this giant, with a look of superiority and submissiveness' sweet vices,
ethereal bubbles in her rich stitches,
Has been stitched by the dubiously ingenius of the angels,
Looks like delicate opium at every sloppy stuck-up angle

My silky nightshirt lays with not a wrinkle
As my dainty dolly Lo Dolores Haze displays her beautiful eye twinkles, .
her eyes fireflies,
Conjoined by the fresh flown fog,
My dolly's eyes shine bright,
Even with absence compared, not a girl had more mischief than in a strand of my Lo's dirty dark hair!