He moves with style, and elegant grace
He pays with gold coins, wears satin and lace.
He’s the toast of the town, at masques and balls,
We’ll dance until dawn in candle lit halls.
His words are seductive, an unstoppable force,
Why travel by car, when there’s room on his horse?
Although he’s well-mannered, a gent and a lord,
He’s fueled by passion and quick with a sword.
I’ll know when I see him, they’re hard to come by –
My sword fighting, flute playing, Renaissance guy.