The stewardess

by | Apr 26, 2008 | Poetry | 0 comments

Every morning at nine fifty eight
She’s there to open up the gate
Cos that’s the job she has to do
I’ll bet you’re gonna ask me who
It’s R E B E C C A.

She walks in through the double doors
To start her many daily chores
The shelves with beer she has to fill
And then she’s got to check the till
Liaise with Secretary Bill
Who? R E B E C C A.

She opens the Bar, unlocks the Grills
Customers she serves and glasses fills
Packets of Crisps, biscuits and cheese
With her soft Scots brogue she aims to please
Some Members smile the others just tease
Their R E B E C C A.

At 11 p.m. she knows too well
It’s time to ring the final bell
The Club will empty, she locks the Grills
Turns out the lights, empties the Tills
She’s last to leave and it’s very late
Because she’s got to lock the gate
Who ?? Dear R E B E C C A.


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