If you can't windsurf, write about it.

Austin's English teacher asked the class to write a poem, so while pondering what to write about he overheard the teacher tell another studend to write about something he loves to do. That's all he needed to hear.

Windy Days
Out on the water is where I love to be,
My board and my sail, it's just me and the sea,
Gliding on the water at a fast moving pace,
It's my dream, like an astronaut's of going to space,
I'm strapped to the board and I'm hooked to the sail,
I am one with my gear, that I hope will not fail,
I catch the strong winds with all of my might,
But I make sure the causeway is still in my sight,
When I'm on dry land and I see the trees blow,
My heart starts a thumping and my blood starts to flow,
So I call up the wind line to see if it's blowing,
And then I call on my dad to see if we are going,
The boards are strapped down and then we load up the gear,
And then there's that sound that’s always good to hear,
The sound of a text from Ron or maybe Dave,
They give us the information that we truly crave,
Dave says it is windy, about fifteen to twenty,
He rigged his 7.5 and said it was plenty,
We check we have everything and hop in the car,
It's not a long wait the causeway isn't that far,
We get to the causeway and see all the smiling faces,
I know I'd rather be here out of any other places,
We take down the boards and unload our things,
But no one knows the happiness that windsurfing truly brings,
I slide the mast in the sail and clamp the boom on,
When I get it all together and you look……
I'll be gone.