She walks in and works And walks out when done working She stands and waits on the diners Serving them delicacies and wines Some French and Swiss
She serves wine never tasted by her Wine only known by name to her One wonders whether she would ever taste such Sweet wine, dry wine all alike Some south African, carribean, Ugandan- all alike.
She holds the glasses atop on her tray Having wiped them too clean enough to glitter Behold, I saw the reflection of the chef on one Ready to serve that sweet or dry wine; Could this bottle be from the prairies or it’s Russian?
She is neat and keen to please She listens out well to her clients Customers set to dine and feast at her master’s estate She takes orders and seeks not to meadour She listens well cut to the teeth, is she Italian?
The tip or the tip; That is the delight for her day She serves all day well counting points Weighing and waiting well on how much she is to earn So she serves them with a smile, Could she be Ugandan? I guess so For she is happy, warm and welcoming.