The English Teacher
We all have this one favorite teacher, who is easily the coolest and strongest person we have ever encountered. For me, its my English Teacher... Speeding down the streets as a vague violet glint, Her sharp features held high and erect against wind's sway, With the sun adding to her bronze, a golden tint, My teacher roars away every day. Grinning as she steps over the threshold, With a casual wave, She entwines the class in her mystic hold, Where every pupil knows to learn, to laugh -and to behave. Alive did Shakespeare, Frost and Eyre trod in her classes, Where she took us each day on a voyage, We sped in horses tearing through white, frozen land masses, Yea, scooped up gold, bathing in the rising sun's shimmering gaze. On papers did we slay dragons and beasts, Gripping our swords tight as they rose to the sky, menacing fangs bared, Yea, met rich merchants and their mistresses in feasts, As they drank deeply from glasses, sparkling red w...