Turned Blue?

Turned Blue?
.

My sweet potato has turned blue

I'll love her no matter what hue 

  .

Long legs, loved by every man

Shapely, muscled, browned summer tan 

  .

Dimples, hidden, on her smooth cheeks

I know they're there, loved them for weeks 

  .

She was a sweet thing, once so hot

Though Adam's rib knockoff she's not 

  .

Her smile is like summer night's flirt

My sweet potato, came from dirt

..

- - - - -
.  ..

Picture and Poem Copyright, © 2014 Jimmiehov, All Rights Reserved.

Today I am linked with Kerry at the Real Toads Sunday eChallenge (link)
And again Monday with her at the Real Toads Open Link Monday (link)

Notes: 
1) Kerry's challenge was to be avant-garde.  In form I'm probably definitely not like these words of hers:   "Remember the basic precepts of the school of avant-garde art is to be innovative, ahead of your times, bold, courageous and visionary."  Perhaps my words might be.

For sure in form I'm most basic with this standard five stanza couplet (link)(At the link, the writer said that "even young children can write couplets.")
Also I am aware that the 'number' of my pronouns is singular while I have numerous (three) moldy sweet potatoes in the picture. I took the picture before I ever thought of writing a poem to one, the loveliest, of them. 
2) These baked sweet potatoes which served as inspiration for this 'poem' we found in our refrigerator when we came back from our recent seven week holiday (47 days-a transatlantic cruise and a month in May).  They were covered in blue mold.