Epitome of beauty she may not be,
Yet every night her thought haunts me.
Her face is cherubic and ever full of gleam,
I have fallen in love with the midget in my dreams.

Sleep is man’s sine qua non,
Once asleep all his worries are gone.
Slumber is where I see my panacea,
The girl I love, the midget in my dreams.

A scion of Aphrodite in all her looks,
her beauty bequeathed to by Zeus himself.
A mannequin on the move, that’s my girl,
an easel directly out of da vinci’s shelf.

For writing what I am writing I may be deemed culpable,
for exaggerating about the girl I haven’t yet met.
A devout of panlogism as much as I may seem,
I have fallen in love with the midget in my dreams.