In her day, she was what you’d call
a hot tomato.
Smoky eye shadow, red ripe luscious lips.
Many a bloke put the squeeze on her,
but failed.
She sat perched at the bar
finely dressed.
Fox stole draped over bare shoulders.
Bosom heaving as she laughed at them.
As midnight struck,
leaving their raw desire behind
she’d saunter out into the London fog.
Night after night after
night after night until
New Year’s Eve, nineteen twenty-seven,
her bar stool sat empty –
and she was never seen again.
It’s Tuesday Poetics at dVerse, the virtual pub for poets around the globe. Melissa (who recently celebrated her birthday!) tells us it’s National Spicy Guacamole Day. Who knew? She provides us with a long list of words that I suspect are from a guacamole recipe, and asks us to use at least 4 of these words in our poem for today. I’ve used the following: tomato, smoky, red, ripe, squeeze, finely, and raw. A fun prompt indeed! Image from Pixabay.com
lillian the home poet 
Oh, no! I wonder what happened to her. Love your descriptive imagery, and especially “hot tomato”.🤭
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A great take on the prompt, Lill, and I love the way you used the prompt words. A hot tomato waiting to be squeezed! I would love to know what happened to her.
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Me too! 🙂
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If this had been a few years earlier I would have imagined Jack being there in the London fog… love the hot tomato
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Nice descriptions and intriguing mystery.
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OH I can see her now!!!!
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I like your seductive poetic story poem! Very nice.
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A haunting delight, lillian!
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Very noir Lillian! A hot tomato indeed…
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Wonderful imagery, you describe her so well.
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Intriguing
Much🖤love
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