He taught them well
~for all the teachers here~
He cared enough,
So much so,
Reasoned with them.
Never diminishing their simplest prose,
Even if it rhymed with rose....
He loved them in his way,
Once his student,
This year, then forever.
Their woes he read,
In every submission,
No threat treated idly,
He knew but one grade,
Caring.
One rule strictly observed,
No touching,
In this sad age, a crime without
Any absolution.
Then came a day.
School arrived, pre-bell by ten minuets,
His customary arrival time.
This day different.
The long corridor to the classroom entree,
Lined like Noah's ark, two by two,
On each side,
His students past and present aligned,
They would not let him pass,
Till he hugged each and everyone.
Thus, they taught him well the meaning of
Just rewards
For they were his,
Yes, they were his,
Not for the taking,
But for the giving.
His subject,
Creative writing,
of course!
Wrote this just now, 517am, just fell out of me from absolutely no-idea-where-from. A dream for my next life, perhaps?