Author's Note: The characters aren't mine, but the poem is! This poem was inspired after a chat with Marie1964 and Hogan MacGyver. It is a take on the villanelle—a poem style with French origins, so who better than to write a modified villanelle about than LeBeau? The chat also inspired me to write a haiku, which you can read in Marie's poetry contest anthology.


No one would give a second glance
To the corporal with the scarf of red.
He is here, it seems, by unlucky chance.

By the stove he stands, like in a trance,
Keeping his companions fed.
He wields a chef's knife, not a lance.

He will never drop his stance,
As a certain Englishman has said.
Though far from home, he lives for France.

But stay long enough, and perchance
He'll head beneath that last bunk bed.
He meets his captors with defiance.

Sometimes an actor in a performance,
Sometimes a spy in over his head,
He vows to stop the enemy's advance.

With the ladies, he would love to dance,
Though duty calls to him instead.
He will wait always for romance,
But first things first—Vive la France!