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