This Was She
Beneath the sturdy frame that some called fat,
Exists a delightful creature, sublime, svelte, willowy,
Gracious and graceful, elegant and ladylike.
This was she as she believed deep down she was.
This was she as she hoped and dreamed
She would one day discover that she was,
In reality, not some image, designer-made,
Who peopled her nights with starlight rendez-vous
And handsome men who begged to baise her hand.
Indeed, this was she as she really was, in thought
And gesture, in all the halls of fairy tales
Where time had no meaning and reality
Even less, for changing forms was child’s play
When everything was made of gossamer dreams
Draped from the limbs of baobab trees
And gathered at the waists of slim dryads
Who inhabited the forests of her never-never land.
So she carried herself with the self same pride,
The same belief in what could be,
And people saw and felt the power of this self,
This other person no one saw but conjured
From her very powerful presence in their midst.
That day, although she never knew it,
She became the woman of her dreams
And this is she today, so long as she believes.
© Nyuka Anaïs Laurent 19.11.2010