For The Love Of Diana Poem by Len Webster

The mirrors told her t.v. story.
Like a t.v. dinner, predictable.
As a child, dreaming of a prince,
She thought she might be Queen -
At least, in her imagination.
Too late, the hair blonded,
Cut and made to measure
In imitation of the people's dream,
She never knew she could merely aspire,
Not fulfil the only desire she ever had,
Never having realised
That when it comes to love
No-one is perfect,
Each must SELECT.