My Heart's Own Hero
©Eleanor Fairchild (Truly Carmichael)
His sword shall sing in summertime, held steady in his hand.
His gaze intense, his mind complex, his body sculpted stone.
He is my heart's own hero, and a leader in our land.
The skalds should sing his story that his noblest deeds be known
A lion's pride, an eagle's grace, sublimely blend within
A heart that's white with passion pure, for honor beating free.
Oh, blushing bold, of him I dream, though dreaming is no sin.
And then I wake, and peaceful find him sleeping next to me.