"You, My Lord" by Chelsea Castonguay

                                                You, My Lord

At thirteen, I left my cold northern home

and traveled south to marry you, My Lord

I crossed wild rivers I had never seen, and

plains of starving villagers, watching them watch me

with their big eyes and gaunt cheeks, they vanished at

the barren moors that later haunted my nightmares

I stood beside you in a crowded church

filled with faces that before our union had

seen the weddings of many others

And I hoped one had been for love

At fourteen, I began to raise my eyes

from the floor in order to see you, My Lord

Laughs came much easier to my lips, your conversation

was welcome, and I found myself anticipating your arrival

home from your long hunting trips

Wishing to see your cheeks kissed red from the winds

I stood on the stone walks between the towers

of your mighty castle, older than we knew

And watched for your entourage coming over the barren

moors, straining my eyes to see your victory banners

At fifteen, I began to dread the departure for the

war in a far-off land that would come to you, My Lord

Helpless to aid you, I saw your brave struggle

with the impossible decision, to stay or leave behind the home

you had always known and when you left

the home we both knew it would probably be forever

I stood behind a battlement, beside the ladies of the court

All weeping and waving kerchiefs, tossing flowers

to their mighty knights, their bodies and faces

dressed for battle and my eyes alone were dry.

At sixteen, I sat a year by your cold hearth

alone with my thoughts and prayers for you, My Lord.

Every day would see me on the walkway casting my

eyes over the barren moor, which had stolen you away

and which I hoped would still bring you back to me,

although I knew many of our brave knights had fallen

I stood alone at the head of your court, as they listened

to the tales of our knights, who had fought and fallen

on unknown soil, their bodies to rot alone and their spirits to roam

over the earth for eternity, and I wondered where you were.

At seventeen, I alone did not despair for your return,

and I kept a fire burning in the yard every night for you, My Lord

To serve as a beacon across the barren moors, a light to guide

you home to me, and to your child, whom you had never seen

Your son, who every day asked for you and who I knew

would grow to be a warrior as bold and true as his father

I stood outside the gates of the castle, straining

my eyes to see through the blizzard that had lasted for

twelve days, waiting and aching to see you, but there was

only the return of your horse, with his empty saddle

At eighteen, I took up a sword to defend your home

against intruders who sought to take it from you, My Lord

The battle raged for days, and many lives of your knights who

had returned from the far-off war were claimed, but it was

not long before the walls of the castle ran with the blood of

our enemies and I had kept your home safe for you

I stood by the fire in the courtyard in the night, feeding

the flames to keep them alive for you as I did every night,

although the servants believe me mad, I heard the tales of the

rogue knight, fighting his way home across the barren moors.

At nineteen I awoke in the night to see your shadow over my

bed and for a moment, I could not believe it was you, My Lord.

Even when I had leapt from the bed, a mere specter in my white

nightgown, and your arms had closed around me, I could scarce

believe that you had returned to me from the far-off war, and come

home across the barren moors that had sought to make you their own.