The grand hall was all set

VIP guests arrived and mulled around

Security was Shawshank tight

While photographers stood their ground

With their zoom lenses and  ladders at the ready

All waiting to snap the who’s who of this selected elite

Meanwhile nobody noticed the shadow who emerged from the kitchen

A slender silhouette in uniform

Staff doors swung back as quickly as their collective heads

She breezes past them all, aghast, who was she?

Scratching heads, she had them enchanted 

Why was this apparent kitchen hand greeted by butlers & security

But in she strode, as if she were ten feet tall

This was no servant but the #belle of the ball

​(C) Llewellyn-McKenzie Communications