I'm in Love with the Woman in the Green Cardigan in the BBC Question Time Audience

In the hush of the studio lights,
she sits, a splash of emerald wool,
her cardigan folding around her shoulders
like a quiet promise against the studio’s hum.

BBC Question Time flickers behind her,
politicians trading barbs like rain,
yet my gaze lingers on the soft curve
of her smile, a steady beacon amid the storm.

I imagine the rustle of her sleeves
as she leans forward, eyes bright with thought,
the way she nods, assent or dissent,
each movement a stanza I long to read.

Perhaps she sips tea from a chipped mug,
perhaps she glances at the clock,
wondering if the world will ever make sense—
while I wonder if she’ll ever notice me.

In that sea of faces, she is the green
that steadies my heart, a quiet hue
that refuses to be drowned by the noise,
a colour I carry long after the cameras fade.

So here’s to the woman in the green cardigan,
unsung heroine of the audience’s throng—
may your woolen warmth always find me,
and may my love be as steadfast as your stare.