She Wears a Giant Tiara

She wears a giant tiara
Though it is not made of gold.
It is not made of silver, or copper, or glass.
No.
Her tiara shimmers, shines, basks
In an unearthly glow, an aura, a nimbus
Which surrounds not just her tiara, but her very being.
For you see, her giant tiara
It is not quite a tiara at all
But a light - a golden light
Like sunlight, only sunnier
Like a laugh, only happier
And it envelopes her like a flame
Hugging her close, its diamond tendrils reaching out
And everyone they touch grows warm.
Everyone they touch becomes part of her,
The one with the tiara.

She wears a giant tiara
Because she is a giant-hearted queen.
She does not crown herself in her tiara
But rather her subjects, her students, her princesses do
For they love her - she is their teacher.
And they, the princesses, are her students.
And now the queen, she goes to rest, but she wants--
She wants to see her princesses grow
She wants to see her princesses transform
And have their own giant tiaras.
For when that day comes, her princesses will be queens, too
And they will have to touch others
Like her tiara touched them.
And she left them with a single spark -
One spark, one baby flame, that can flicker
That can become its own tiara.
One diamond, one emerald, one ruby, one gem.
They will all grow into their crowns.
And one day, one day, they will know what is it like
To be a queen. Maybe. Perhaps. She hopes.

And I hope - one day--
I hope to have my very own giant tiara.

[*"She wears a giant tiara" was a sentence Dr. Schwebel taught me in order to remember a certain aspect of Latin grammar. I thought of it suddenly today and crafted it into this poem. I'm not quite sure if the poem makes any sense, but I just needed to write it. One day, I will write a short story called "She wears a giant tiara" and it will probably (er, hopefully) make a lot more sense than this poem does. I apologize for the corniness of this poem, in any case.]