The Woman in the Emerald Gown

A self-love poem

Who is the woman in the emerald evening gown?

Standing statuesque and poised; an air of regality abounds.

You can catch a glimpse if you act fast now —

She’s blocked from view amongst the crowd.

Among the flashing lights and throngs of frenzied paparazzi,

She gazes upon them all, ever so humble and adoringly.

She waves and beckons to her enraptured fans with heartfelt jubilee;

They volley for the perfect photo, to share her beauty for all to see.

Who is she, and why is she so beloved and adored?

She’s the new literary marvel of course, this generation’s faith in hopeful stories, restored.

And what’s that you say? She’s nominated for an award? No wonder everyone is acting so untoward!

It looks like she’s just won the Hugo — a sci-fi author’s all-time ambition!

Her book was so moving and provocative and profound, she blew away all competition.

Here she stands, basking in the limelight, accepting her trophy, trying not to cry.

How she was able to manifest this life, she’ll never understand how or why.