Tea Trolley Lady
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In the morning I wear a head scarf,
With glasses, I smoke a dart,
I push the tea trolley, with tea and coffee,
And the cookies- a la carte.
By day I’m the invisible woman,
Predictably safe and tame,
But, it’s when the moon comes up,
That things just aren’t the same,
I change in the witching hour,
To Rhiannon of the night,
Draped in black sheer down my body,
Over the leather that hugs me tight.
By three I become your elusive dream,
Your fleeting ephemeral bubble,
I am your safe little tea lady that,
By night, invokes the trouble.
Copyright © Lewis Raynes | Year Posted 2017
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