Monthly Archives: July 2015

For the intimist writer, his space is vital
To draw upon dreams, to draw your bath,
Allow me to unfurl and release the towel
Woman, you’ve incurred my intimacy wrath

Easy now, betcha by golly wow . . .
You’re my undeniable writing prompt,
Paint you, sculpt you–I would if I could
On the initial draft I may’ve stomped

Unworthy they are, my creative lines
Of the visual that my stolen eyes behold,
A tub, filled with suds, is but a tub
Except you’re its content, truth be told

I’m restarting, the opening paragraph anew
“The woman doth give his pen sole purpose,”
I dare not objectify, my integrity is high
But, please, will you break the water’s surface?

There, appears the mid-arm birthmark
upon which my eyes may feast, my dear,
Your hands need not curtain the gifts
My intentions are benign but artistically clear

Nothing I’ve seen as angelically beautiful
I speak, I write as a man truly blessed,
To bathe you my mind has risen to bountiful
My study, my being, my psyche you’ve possessed

A room is but a room
The wooded walls, they remain,
But a room can touch a writer
And his art is ne’er the same

A summary is but a summary
But read the sum of what I wrote,
The flowing hair fall, I described it all
An exclusive baptism with lather moat

A tub is still a tub
Even in the absence of a rub,
But can you feel the stirring in my loin . . .
What, you would like me to join . . .

. . . You?

Don’t mind if I do.

Thought you’d never ask.

________

***

Pamper the woman . . . and forever live in her soul. -Rg2

© 2015 Pamper-Her-Friday by Rg2®

Save your travel fare, put away the passport
I simply can’t let you cross the Atlantic pond,
Yes, America’s home to the vanishing romantic
But only one’s needed for an authentic bond

Which considers your wants, reconfigures his needs
Perhaps we can arrive at a luscious medium,
Have you heard of mutually assured romance?
Pamper-Her-Friday’s the answer to the tedium

Of another lonely evening after laboring all week
Sure, you can meet the girls for happy hour laughs,
But then what, another date with Netflix?
Well, that’s OK, but what of your aching calves?

Let’s say we wrap them in my gifted hands
As I meticulously remove all muscle tension,
Finger pressure applied below at snail’s pace
After which the palms begin their ascension

Up, up they glide to that nether coccyx region
I’m neither chiropractor nor therapist,
But a skin whisperer like no other man alive
And this honey pour, woman, you won’t resist

By all means, speak your mind, air your wishes
Or simply luxuriate in this pampering escape,
As I soothe your body, sip on the bourbon toddy
Tonight I’m your romantic dark knight–no cape

Needed; absolutely nothing to obstruct my view
The perfect canvass your blank physiology,
The martini olive placed in the navel pocket
You like? Hold still while I nibble on thee

Does that raise your hunger . . . How about
shrimp summer rolls dipped in sesame-soy sauce?
Now try it with a hint of pineapple teriyaki
You’ll love the Tuscan steak salad I tossed

Later we’ll take a moonlight walk along the pier
A speedboat jaunt for wind-in-your-hair fun,
Then back to the calves where it all started
Your Pamper-Her-Friday weekend has just begun.

__________

***

Pamper the woman . . . and forever live in her soul. -Rg2

© 2015 Pamper-Her-Friday by Rg2®

Simply open the envelope, check off “I’m yours”
The drone will eagerly return your response,
Don’t forget to sign your name–a kiss print
The perfect prelude to the ambiance

Of a summer’s romance which bespeaks
the thoughts and imagery I’ve held week-long,
Your Tuesday message left on my voicemail
Those feathery vocals, girl, it was so wrong

To speak with such silky eloquence
How my name lingered on your tongue,
The ‘I miss you like rain’ I dare not erase
Damn, I nearly broke out in perfect song

I could seek and seek but fail to find
That one, that woman described in proverbs,
African, German–his heart she owns
The good earth giveth her like the herbs

A life force, you, a romantic source, me
A tandem ethereal, verge of paranormal,
Beyond loveless people’s understanding
Whether formal or informal

It matters little where I take your hand
The faces of you, oh, the traces of you . . .
Sand, beach, so long as you’re within reach
I readied the drone and away it flew

Reconnaissance, no, surveillance, no
But a creative mission of special delivery,
A photo included per your summer request
The gift card? Consider it an act of chivalry

Poetry by drone, love letter by drone
Technology applied simply another way,
And as you notice the “PHF” buzzing asky
The delivery’s for you . . . it’s Pamper-Her-Friday.

__________

***

Pamper the woman . . . and forever live in her soul. -Rg2

© 2015 Pamper-Her-Friday by Rg2®

I’m not suggesting you violate company policy
To feign sickness is rather disingenuous,
But Lovers Ditch Day is worth the naughtiness
I’ll handle it should management make a fuss

“She won the lottery,” I’ll say with aplomb
It would be only a partial untruth,
A sudden boost to your bottom line–I
We’ll begin Pamper-Her-Friday in its youth

Sunrise: My hands on your bare shoulders
Muscle kneading elicits a morning purr,
Karate chops astride the spinal canal
“Am I the best?” Your response: “Yesss, sir”

Sautéed chicken huevos rancheros served bedside
Courtesy of your personal breakfast club,
Finger-feed you fresh-picked berries will I
Your sweet limbs the spokes and I’m the hub

The center of your bodily regions, consider me
Need I awaken the soles and the toes?
Your purrs, they’re becoming much more audible
To my touch, woman, you are predisposed

Up and at ’em–your usual daily mantra
No, that doesn’t play on Lovers Ditch Day,
By all means, sink your face into the pillow
As I L-shape the legs in a creative array

Of ligament tension relief methods
There’s a slight pain near the rotator cuff?
Let me employ my artisanal finger probe
Of course I promise not to be rough

Except where pain is part of the healing
as oxymoronic as that may sound,
And I definitely won’t neglect the glutes
You’ve expressed a helpless affinity as I pound

Gently, firmly, smackly, palm-exactly
Involuntary spanking does have its place,
No, don’t you dare stifle your approvals
The fetish is shared, no need to save face

Putting me to work as your private contractor
We’re bed-locked for at least half the day,
It’s Lovers Ditch Day with much more to come
What good is a woman of all work and no play?

________________

***

Pamper the woman . . . like no one else can. -Rg2

© 2015 Pamper-Her-Friday by Rg2®