Once I Was A King
“Once I was a King” I say to the somber young man standing by my bed. I remember that much. Once I was a king. I had a queen, a lovely woman with joyful eyes and mischief in her smile. Her hair was red as a sunset, eyes dark as the fresh turned earth, fair skin dotted lightly where the sun kissed her cheeks. Once I was a king. I had a daughter with the look of her mother but eyes like the summer sky, hair pale as straw. I remember she had a way about her, an intelligence coupled with sharp humor and a quick wit. I was a father. I was a husband. I was a king. Once I was a king. When foreign folk sacked villages and killed my people, I went with men bearing my standard to bring peace and order to the land once again by driving out the threat. Once I was a king. They came again, these foreign men with strange clothing and even stranger talk. They spoke of things not of my land. They didn’t belong. I went yet again to drive them out. My wife. She cautioned me not to go.