The Skin – the waves of the sea;The curved waist – the beaches;
The breast – the mountains;
The hair – the forest;
The silhouette – the gracefulness of the carioca woman;
And at the feet of the statue the ibis.
To my friend who was a history teacher;
Finland. A fine land indeed.Need I say any more ?Thou art amidst the fauna and the florawith the mind taking a repose.More adventures such as this,shall make the heart just rightafter all doing art makes one less right(as in right wing), as they say in BBC.The finns and the fjordsor the nords who took the swords,Not I remember such historical detailBut I shall rejoice in your new found choice.Alas, you are the history teacherand thou shall teach me a bit of a story.Write I these words,Know not have they any meaning.After all words joined togetherlike beads in a stringor ATGC in DNAstill gives a unique meaningto a few.Ah, Hiking. How my heart yearns for it.I shall envy your utopian land.Curious I am about the Finns,If they actually talk straight orat times be like a flint.After all you are quarter of a Finn,But I still miss the others three quarters.Pleased I am with your new life my friend,You solitude and search for wildernessI hope you meet someone nice.The leaves in the wood are different.Seasons change and brings with itits own newness.Old trees fall down, young saplings uprootedby the tireless and strong wind.Others wait and watch,perhaps they suffer too,but they are helplessfor the forces are too strong.Here and there we hear some one grumbleabout the fallen soulsbut the morning jobs and the mature studentsneatly rake the leaves on one sideand seek warmth from the bonfire.Know not any more where the text is goingBut it is utterly moving to see the placewhere in ancient days we movedheaven and earth. our aspirations and laughsour tireless walks across the corridor.room checks and tutees.Gosh not the least I remember any more.All the very best my friend.Do tell me about all your adventures.I am sure you will have many.Wonder I if you speak any Finnish at allor use only sign language of all !I miss hearing your narrativebe it in the school meeting orin another unbeknownst time.I was playing with words to see how far I can continue.Sky is the limit now.But I shall retire nowFor I need to work ‘morrowat 8:30 sharp.