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Message: <blockquote data-quote="x-pert" data-source="post: 2071542" data-attributes="member: 837">I dreamed I stood in a studio         And watched two sculptors there,         The clay they used was a young guy's mind         And they fashioned it with Coke.                   One was teacher the other was Johnie         the tools she used were Glasses and Smokes and Shandy;         One was a guy like Jayantha         With a *** hand and *** *** heart.                  And when at last their work was done,         They were proud of what they had wrought.         For the things they had worked into the *** <img src="/styles/default/xenforo/smilies/default/P.gif"  class="smilie" loading="lazy" alt=":P" title=":P    :P" data-shortname=":P" />Edited poem by Ray A. Lingenfelter Happy Teachers Day! <img src="/styles/default/xenforo/smilies/default/rofl.gif"  class="smilie" loading="lazy" alt=":rofl:" title="ROFL    :rofl:" data-shortname=":rofl:" /> <img src="/styles/default/xenforo/smilies/default/P.gif"  class="smilie" loading="lazy" alt=":P" title=":P    :P" data-shortname=":P" /></blockquote>

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