Tea Trolley Lady

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.