My favorite student is a girl
Whose hair is blonde as hay.
She wears expensive clothes with pearls
And shuns the light of day.
At night she spreads her silken wings
And flies above the city,
Where crowds of foolish lovers sing,
Appealing to her pity.
She sleeps through class without a snore
Her eyelids painted clover.
Please donít disturb her! I adore
The way she looks hung-over.
If you have any thoughts on this poem, Louis Hunt would be pleased to