Beneath the feet lies
fashion, Prada, Jimmy Choo ~
Scarlet defines cut and fit,
loafers for the lazy.
Calf hugging, sexual status
symbols totter, on alarming heels.
Silver tipped stilettos, denotes high
flying executive in power suit ~
Scuffed but well loved, hand polished
with that wax which reminds of home,
stroked casually by distracted fingers.
Boxed in soft tissue, a Ballerinas dream,
points fashioned by sadist, be-ribboned.
Slipper-ed love, fashioned with fur,
comforting, as only faux can.
Stud of the year, crafted by winners,
red white or blue,
Soccer or football depending on where.
Zipped or laced, black or white,
block,
or flats,
bridal or rugby?
After a life time, of pampering others whims,
the old man sits on the half stool,
the tools of his trade, of his knowledge,
at hand.
Quietly he observes his prey, noticing everything,
the discreet jewellery, the Tiffany watch,
he pounces,
another sale!
Adding your comment:
I have no knowledge of fashion whatsoever as shameful as that is 
On tot he poem, I really did enjoy the idea of this. I had never thought of a shoe sales person having tools of the trade. The little things they must pick up over the years that we wouldn't even notice. I liked the imagery presented and the way you approached the theme. The flow was a little off to me in places but did even out with more reads. I think the other judges have covered everything so I will leave. 
when adjectives aren’t separated by a comma.)
