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Today in French class I wrote a poem. First of all, I never write rhyming poetry, or metered poetry or any of that. But apparently today I do. Secondly, I don't think it's any good, but I'm quite happy with it. It's inspired by a line from the bible which, yes, is about Jesus, but the poem definitely isn't, as much as it sounds like it. In fact, I think it might be about someone eerily like Grandfather Twilight. Have you read that book?

On a rocky shore of the greenest isle,
the tired and workers stood.
They thought very little of beauty or truth;
lived in houses of paint and of wood.
But there came once the poets and dreamers to join them,
from their wet, fragile houses of clay.
These poets and dreamers knew how to see
before the sun was rising at the breaking of the day.

A man had come and found them
and their thoughts began to play
with the beauty all around them
at the breaking of the day.
And the workers became poets,
and the poets became free,
for as the man came toward them
he was walking on the sea.

The water was murky, his footsteps clear,
the sky was bright but gray;
and though the wind blew strong, it
was a calming sort of day.
And though the fog had lifted,
he was all that they could see
as he came towards them in the early morning,
walking on the sea.

His steps were sure, although the waves
lapped loudly at his feet,
and though he caught their eyes he knew
that they would never meet.
He knew that soon the waves would melt him;
he knew he would cease to be,
as he came towards them in the early morning,
walking on the sea.

And now the folk tell stories
of the man they almost knew
whose eyes were wise, his arms outstretched,
years many, triumphs few.
Only the youngest believed them, but
the children still hope they'll see
the man who arrives in the early morning,
walking on the sea.