With her complexion,
Any color goes.
On close inspection,
Her fine figure glows.


Pastels, she’d prefer,
In undies, I think.
If left up to her
A pale passion pink.


She models a set
Of undies each day.
Such pleasure men get,
When glancing her way.


She’s there in plain sight,
Behind the clear glass,
All day and all night,
Watching strollers pass.


Though a certainty
All envy her skin,
There’s no vanity
In a mannequin.



***


© By RickMack (Rmrickmack@aol.com)









Watch these pages for more poems by RickMack.
In the meantime, click the links below for other poems and stories by the authors at Lara's Den.


The Kite That Got Away

I Can See His Face

Buzzards

Out The Big Window

Procrastination

Proclaim

The Percolator


And.......for many others, click the index image.



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