I do remember my art teacher a Belle <br />And really a Goddess; Her fallen hair reached the buttocks <br />Talking eyes and the pleasant smile that brings flux to a lonely heart. <br />Still it's a dilemma why she remained as a spinster? <br />My nostalgic thoughts ferried into the boisterous schooldays <br />And she drew a horse on the blackboard. <br />Later she explained; 'Mustang is a wild horse of Mexico and California.' <br />Right now I want to shout to my dear stunning teacher that I struggle to live in California and I dream sometimes my beautiful Mustang neighs; <br />' Unfaithful Master you have already jumped the hurdle leaving me alone at the border.' <br /> <br />* The butterfly counts not months, but moments, and yet has time enough. <br />-unknown <br /> <br />To Alison
