Miss Lady at Market Place
A dazzling large red rose danced
on the brim of her yellow straw hat,
flip flopping over her dark brow and
deep set eyes.
Her full pursed lips matched the rose
blowing perfect smoke rings,
in miniture halos, over her head.
She tiptoed with grace on stilted heels,
Hips swaying to music only she could hear.
An old man spied from the corner of his
unpatched eye with much admiration...
Oh how he did grin, shaking his head,
hankering, in the silence of a never to be,
Heads turned from every direction as Miss Lady
Strolled, nonchalant in the haze of smoke
and admiring eyes...
Woman surely envied her beauty, and the
motion of her hips, tugging at the imagination and
heart strings of men.
Mae West, reincarnated in ebony, strolling
on a saturday morning at market place.
challenge - Painting with Words
See more poems by Cynthiaapwlts
View this poem
Comment on this poem