Staring past,

A vast crowd,

My vision, is blurring.

Blobs of color,

Blinding me,

Something inside is stirring.

Flashes of green, dashes of gold,

A hand, on an arm,

Raised high.

Smidgeons of pink, snatches of grey,

A circle,

That should be a face.

A princess stands, above the rest,

A crown atop her head,

Golden sunshine wraps around,

And touches all the rest.

Her gracious heart,

And honest nature,

Reaches out,

To embrace us all.

A shining beacon,

So pristine,

Hard to believe,

That she, is just like me.