Monthly Archives: May 2015

What, 75 cents on the dollar comparatively . . .
Your take against your counterpart’s,
Harmony voids in work and domestic life
The ‘fulfilled’ target aimed—but errant darts

Thrown from your slightly weary hands
To say nothing of your exhausted mind,
Chasing that elusive have-it-all dream
And love has been less than kind

Do you truly know what it is you want, woman . . .
Is yesterday’s craving, tomorrow’s ‘care less’?
As spring begins its transition to summer
Might you need a season of tenderness?

No, not because you are not strong
You’ve shouldered worlds disproportionately,
But the Midas hand of a caring man
can augment the quality of life so fortunately

First, we’ll lighten your ceaseless workload
Workaholism is so overrated,
Promotion results not from perpetual motion
But smart investing in ideas understated

Like copyrights and creative service marks
emblematic of the universal heart,
Pamper-Her-Friday may come to mind
With value above commercialized art

We’ll take the concept off mere paper
And transcend it beyond electronic space,
Let’s live it out in human interaction
We’ll take each moment at your pace

Dinner arrangements have been set
Waterfront views so quietly lush,
There we’ll discuss our weekend itinerary
We’re on for fun . . . is that a blush?

The creator/innovator of Pamper-Her-Friday
Gosh, is the guy a genius or what,
And in case you’d rather not leave our table
. . . I’ll build us an oceanfront hut

Tonight.

Just come.

_____________

***

Pamper the woman . . . with a special table for two. –Rg2

Physiology says the brain, the epicenter of motor movement, prompts and controls the actions of the body’s extremities. The appendages are at the command of the brain, human anatomy affirms.

But what about the heart?

Call it an override–my heart over the brain–in the throes of Pamper-Her-Friday’s most sacred hours. The most vital organ of the human body? Last night that conventional wisdom was rendered moot–in your absence.

Sleepless in Southern California–I might as well have begun writing the movie script. Last night. If there are two character flaws I detest in the internal makeup of men, they are ‘needy’ and ‘greedy.’ Those foibles may well be the two most abhorred by women as well.

Greed is good? Wall Street may concur, but ask a woman. Need is basic? Water, oxygen and sustenance aside, ask a woman whether she admires that in a man.

I’ve long prided myself in the ability to enjoy my own company; any writer worth his salt understands that solace is requisite. His pen and creative mind are intriguing guests, no doubt.

But what of his arms, when the last sentence is arrived, punctuated by the final period? And his cottage is warm from the chill outside and the sangria-filled crystal glass is without its love interest? Empty arms can indeed be a sad state of affairs.

Somewhere in my sadness last night, I managed not to fall apart. I wrote. I drank. I reminisced. I motioned for your shoulders . . . without result. I summoned your fragrance, somehow still wafting amid the space between the four walls, under the dim lights, accompanying the haunting vocals of Sade Adu. Last night.

Yes, I appreciated my own company on Pamper-Her-Friday. I cast aside greed and need as best I could.

Your leaving for the weekend, deserving though you are of the personal getaway with your girlfriends, made me revisit my appreciation for my own company.

Given the option, however, I’d have much preferred my sangria paired and shared. Last night.

A man should never tell a woman he misses her. So, I won’t break male-policy.

But, I swear, the heart will at some point override the brain. If I could, I’d rewrite the movie script I found myself authoring less than 24 hours ago.

I’d re-do everything . . . about last night.

No, I won’t say I missed you, woman.

I’ll write it.

Tender are my thoughts,
Rg2

_______________________

***

Pamper the woman . . . by expressing your feelings. For tomorrow’s not promised. -Rg2

© 2015 Pamper-Her-Friday by Rg2®

Like, say, a woo note written over a network
Or a melt-her poem published unnamed,
Yes, they may float through the open ether
But only you know from whose pen it came

No need to blow the ghostwriter’s cover
When he’s more than careful to protect yours,
Should you take the full measure of his written heart
From it does what he truly feels for you pours

I conjure you at each daybreak, woman
My last night’s sleep was pleasantly abrupted,
Your face appeared and your fragrance neared
My think-of-you quotient, you’ve certainly upped it

How often have you returned the thoughts . . .
Those nights in my absence, did you pine away?
Were you to describe the body indicators in words
What deeper truths might they convey?

The Pamper-Her-Fridays arrive and leave
You’ve spent more than your share alone,
Pondering, you may’ve, ‘what if?’ the experience
Having left you in suspense, I must atone

Shall I come and steal you away this night?
My intentions would be far from indecent,
An assurance your reputation remains intact
While mindful, I, the heartbreak was recent

That one who knew not what he was doing
The emotional neglect, you taken for granted,
Your fidelity devalued, your mistakes ballyhooed
The love you gave one-sided and slanted

That hour is past, true intimacy is nigh
Come, will I quiet the last of the tears,
No interest have I in disrobing your body
But rather a promise to clothe your naked fears

Intimacy in this the digital age
Requires discreetness with sweetness like never before,
If you’re ready to be pampered offline, in real time
Consider my invitation all the more . . .

Tonight.

_______________

***

Pamper the woman . . . and her intimacy is yours. –Rg2

© 2015 Pamper-Her-Friday by Rg2®

As dampness lingers in the cleansed air
and grey skies refuse to relinquish the chill,
I’ll prepare a bones-warming winefire
The cognac is begging us to break its seal

Can I creatively domesticate you tonight?
Worry not, responsible am I for all nightchores,
Nary a finger will you have to lift
Pampering awaits you beyond closed doors

Let me take your coat and the designer tote
By all means, relieve yourself of the shoes,
Down pillows and a plush throw lay on the sofa
Indulge yourself in the hearth fire’s hues

Violet flames subtly calling our names
The flickering is so thought-provoking,
If ambiance reflects the soul of the host
The moment has arrived for gentle hair stroking

I want to violin-play each feathery strand
Re-awaken that little girl in you,
This warm, cozy, private setting is yours
I’m all ears if you simply want to be listened to

What worries you, anything ailing you . . . ?
Is there a burden you’d like to get off your chest?
The vagaries of life and work can be so daunting
But my pampering won’t let them steal your zest

For living and loving and laughing unrestrained
We’ll take it one moment at a time,
The weight of the world is not on your shoulders
With a man who poses no uphill climb

A perspective understander, no unrealistic demander
One who comprehends the woman’s backstory,
A sage, a listener, a defuser of strife
Accepting of imperfections that accompany your glory

Alas, it’s Friday, woman, you’re where you belong
Quietude, a healing mood, devoid of pain,
Rest your tender head in the sanctum of my arms
While the cares of the world are left out in the rain.

________________

***

Pamper the woman . . . tonight. -Rg2

© 2015 Pamper-Her-Friday by Rg2®

Of meetings, deadlines, the corporate acting–enough!
Your Puritan work ethic is unquestionable,
But, truth be told, you’re swinging from the rough
It’s time for companionship uncontestable

A man with plan in hand for a weekend bliss
We’re time-zone trotting all of Saturday,
I’ll rub your forehead–a soothing can’t-miss
Show you how I intend to love you in May:

Tomorrow we’ll take flight to Omaha for the
annual Berkshire Hathaway Shareholders meeting,
On to the Clippers-Spurs game-7 at Staples
Then Vegas: Mayweather-Pacquiao, ringside seating

Thrills mile high and celebrations ground low
I may even let you catch your breath,
I just wanna have fun with my lady, the one
And Sunday? A cruise on the Queen Elizabeth

Sunset pier walking and laughter-infused talking
A whirlwind week-ender so worth the wait,
A little outdoor shopping for items on your list
And if you wanna hold my hand, don’t hesitate

I mean, after all, it was your firm stipulation:
“Please, no public displays of affection,”
Though recently I’ve noticed little resignation
Might you’ve been masking a predilection . . .

For an emotion that truly lurks within
Doing so, woman, will eventually take its toll,
Give in to what you feel, for I honor my creed:
Pamper the woman and forever live in her soul . . .

It’s Pamper-Her-Friday, Love.

____________

***

Pamper the woman . . . one weekend at a time. -Rg2

© 2015 Pamper-Her-Friday by Rg2®