Elly May

ELLY MAY poem by: Maria Williams T'was the night before her birthday and Elly May Still in the office putting stuff away In her horn rimmed glasses and grey flannel suit She was the epitome of perfection, the essence of truth She was the best secretary that they'd ever had They had sure gone to pieces after that Yorkshire lad Elly May had filed and tidied and worked like a slave For her two grisly bosses Mr Smith and McKnave After ten long years in this office so dim In her grey flannel suit, the atmosphere grim She needed some new clothes, she needed a rise She needed an optometrist to check on her eyes Poor Elly May paused and leaned on her file She closed her eyes and wondered awhile She dwelled on the hardships and hurdles she'd crossed In her pursuit of dreams -and the hopes that she'd lost That tall handsome stranger never did come her way And he never ever will thought poor Elly May The day dawned ,the birds sang 'twas a beautiful morn But Elly May wished she'd never been born Her rice bubbles refused to Snap Crackle and Pop Her feet felt like lead and her hair like a mop RING Ring went the doorbell, gosh a special delivery Elly May bit her lip and went all shivery The package looked expensive with a lovely red bow Its a mistake thought she its not for me No it was clearly addressed to her -No mistake Her heart was pounding and she started to quake She managed to get the wrapping undone And wondered aloud whose heart she had won She hoped upon hope'twas no cruel joke Or some silly dream from which she'd not woke And there it was midst the tissue all satin and lace a creation upon which she could only but gaze Try it on compelled a voice-but there was no one there She'd be late for work-should she? could she dare? No card to say who it was from Then with hands that trembled she slipped the dress on How it oozed how it rustled how delicately it hung How it shimmered and shone-how provocatively it clung The waist nipped in the neck dipped low she cut such a fine figure of which she didn't know She was beautiful all along she thought with a sigh She had lacked the nerve or the confidence to try She'd resigned herself to her terrible fate Oh Fiddle Dee said that voice Its never too late Now make haste it continued There are things to be done There are people to meet-that worlds full of fun The first thing to do at a quarter to ten Is to get on the phone to those two grissly men Tell them where to get off you'll not be their slave They'll fold up without you that Smith and McKnave Years have gone by since that eventful day That magic morning saw the change of Elly May Now she calls herself Ella - theres a smile on her lips A song in her heart and a sway to her hips Being a jet setter is not easy, her days are never grey Its Paris by night and London by day But every now and again she thinks back with a shudder Then silently gives thanks to her fairy Godmother Written many moons ago for my daughter who wanted a modern day Cinderella story Written and published in an Australian National Women's Magazine for whom I wrote motivational stories and poems intermittently.