Eleven Thousand miles away, there lives an old man, so they say. He works and toils to teach and make, his students smart and chocolate cake. He has an old, worn pair of specs. He has a mailbox, daily he checks. He has an orange shirt he wears, with blue brown checks and lots of tears. He likes to write, he likes to cook. he never turns down a good book. He plays a flute so calm and cool. He swims every day in his pool. He likes to talk philosophy on topics that we never see. He has a lot of friends world wide. He makes them smile, Indeed so wide. People admire him by the ton. Indeed the old man is much fun. -T