Boots’s Boy

My master wears big boots I cannot fill
Though my feet are ten times larger. In his stride
I follow my own glory, learn the tale,
Along with king, my only task to smile
As if each triumph, every harvest spared,
Each ogre slain and castle won were not
Complete surprises. Gallant, jaunty, glib
Of tongue and sharp of claw, my master gives
Me titles, bride, a crown his fur can’t wear,
Calls me the hero—but I’m just his pet.

—Adele Gardner