The Ultimate Swashbuckler
He looked like the consummate soldier.
Rugged, powerful, unbelievably masculine.
Handsome if you asked me.
Have you seen him? People would ask.
I would keep my silence. Not their business.
And I was not about to betray his confidence.
He is the ultimate swashbuckler in battle, men said.
He makes my heart sigh, women said.
I smiled, keeping my counsel, adding nothing to rumors.
His helmet and shield are magnificent; you can see them flash in battle.
He leaves no prisoners; except women and children.
He has God on his shoulders; the men follow him gladly.
Is he the son of the king? Where does he hail from?
His long hand-knitted green scarf is legendary.
Some armies see it coming, and surrender.
I smirk thinking of it as I hear the tales.
For he is Frederick, the son of a miller and a housewife.
And he calls me Mom.
Copyright © Caren Krutsinger | Year Posted 2020
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