This poem was written when by Robert around age 16.

Marmenoul

An old man speaks down by the sea
Of hopes in life thatís meant to be.
He thinks alone, yet speaks to me Ė
And so I listen patiently.

There speaks the fool, there thinks the wise
And without much thought I realize
That what he says cannot be true,
So I condemn Ė yet I dream too.

ďIíve traveled over all the seas
And Iíve seen most every land,
And to tell you, lad, itís and evil world.
One that I canít understand.

ďBut thereís an island far out at sea
Thatís good, and pure and whole.
A place thatís heaven here on earth Ė
And those whoíve seen it call it Marmenoul Ė
    With cities of gold and
mountains pure green. 
    sights that only a few have seen.
    Valleys with skin of a golden hue.
    Winds speaking softly their blessing
to you.

ďMy rustic face and grayish hair
Are blooded with this cursed air,
But inside my heart and within my soul
Iím living on in Marmenoul Ė
    with cities of gold and
mountains pure green.
    sights that only a few have seen.
    Valleys with skin a golden hue.
    Winds speaking softly their blessing to you

And someday when the tide is low
and the mist is in the air
Iíll raise my sails up to the sky
And head due south where it must lie
Iíll turn around for a last goodbye
then straight ahead my ship will fly
And through the mist thereíll raise up high
my island reaching toward the sky
I found it lad, youíll hear me cry
And hear Iíll stay until I die
Old man thought good luck to you
But strange as it all seems
here is where your island lies
a promise land within your dreams
your search is all in vain old man
youíll never reach your goal
yet everybody seeks a place
which we call Marmenoul
    with cities of gold and
mountains pure green.
    sights that only a few have seen.
    Valleys with skin a golden hue.
    Winds speaking softly their blessing to you
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