Monthly Archives: January 2016

First Lady:
“Well, you know, I really am a simple girl at heart. And I don’t think I’m much different from other women across the globe when it comes to what truly matters. A heart box of chocolates. Lilacs and daffodils I love. And for the president to take me in his arms and . . . breathe on me.”

(The studio, including the host and the live audience, turns momentarily silent, except a chorus of “awws” beyond the lights)

Show Host: (now suddenly wishing he were the American president, attempts to gather himself but can’t quite, then cuts to commercial break)
“And now a word from our sponsor.”

He’s in love.

_____________________

***
The greatness of a country is not measured by its military arsenal or the size of its economy or its capacity to out-compete its rivals. The greatness of a country is determined by the quality of its women.” -Rg2

© 2016 Pamper-Her-Friday by Rg2®

(Roy Greer is the founder, creator and innovator of Romance by Rg2 and Pamper-Her-Friday by Rg2, a now globally recognized media property and brand and candidate/challenger for the Guinness Book of World Records’ longest, most innovative online love letter/romantic poetry series–approaching no. 300).

And counting . . . .

Roy thanks you deeply for allowing him to share moments of your valuable time. May your Fridays never be the same.

Why must you lie there with a frenzied mind
Thinking, as usual, of what next needs to be done,
Life has made everyone else the priority except you
Has someone thrown shade over your romantic sun?

Might this be your winter of discontent
The holidays were nice but now something’s amiss,
Your eyes meet the ceiling in the middle of night
In search of that heretofore elusive bliss

Read about, talked about, often bandied about
On network media and un-reality shows,
So far removed from the life you’ve been living
Babygirl, you deserve a Valentine who knows

When to arrive . . . just the same, when to leave
No, not abandonment in your hour of need,
Just enough space to inspire: “I miss me some him”
Pride before love? A woman must not concede

Last February you went to the concert alone
Gave your hard-earned money to that performer on stage,
Only to return to the habitat you left
And the mockingbird sings solo in her cage

I can carry a note or two myself, if you care
Pick up the phone, go ahead, put me on speaker,
“ . . . my funny Valentine, sweet comic Valentine . . .”
At my concert, woman, your knees will grow weaker

Have you ever made love on the 14th of February?
No worries, that truly isn’t the moment’s end-all,
In fact, we’re mistaken to even think in such terms
It’s the pre-verse and the postscript, not the interval

That marks the occasion everlasting the heart
I’m sending a card with a dab of my cologne,
I want you to check off the dinner option of choice
And the poem was written as intended pheromone

Let’s consider this “preview” Pamper-Her-Friday
I’m planting a preconceived thought in your mind,
This doesn’t have to be a winter of discontent
In the warm company of a special Valentine . . . .

_________________

***

A little Romance is all . . . . -Rg2

© 2016 Pamper-Her-Friday by Rg2®

The other guys, they’re jockeying for position
But do they truly understand your higher needs?
Is there something in you on hold for me?
When my chest is cut, it’s your heart that bleeds

It matters; you matter; I matter; Romance matters
If it didn’t, then why do I cross your mind?
What, you think I’ve been writing in purgatory . . .
Our romance contract is printed–will you cosign?

Woman, there’s a quiet movement afoot
Listen closely, you can hear the momentum,
You’ve grown tired of being ignored and unloved
Your glass slippers are in the window–I’ll go get ’em

The God of Romance is rather angry at us
The harm we’ve done to one another in 2015,
Notice happiness is a vanishing resource
We can do better–let’s wipe the slate clean

Woman in the mirror; Man in the looking glass
Look closely, study deeply; Will it break?
I’m peeling the outer ugly off for good
We can do better, Love, for romance sake

Romance matters; a gentle touch matters
Heaven knows(!) a romantic life surely matters,
i want you to think about me in this new year
Yesterday’s bygone; let’s leave our hurts in tatters

A dream came to me last night, woman
You knocked on my door; I invited you in,
We stood silent, you unbuttoned my shirt
Placed your hand on my chest did you–no sin

There we stood; in my eyes you gazed
Fingers spread apart, the palm you pressed,
The other hand rested around my neck
And my lips you gently caressed

You walk away with no verbal goodbye
My eyes follow you out my still-open door,
I approach my street-facing window–to you
A parting glance given–straight to my core

I awoke with a sweat, a shower prolonged
Your palm imprint remains on my chest,
It’s Pamper-Her-Friday and romance matters
Come back tonight . . . I’ll do the rest . . . .

__________

***

Romance matters . . . Romance lives. -Rg2

© 2016 Pamper-Her-Friday by Rg2®

This will make you laugh: I’ve had a near-possessive crush on you since you came into my knowledge as a late teen.

Didn’t matter you were 20 years my advance. Heck, my grandfather had once said an older woman was one of a young man’s greatest gifts should he be willing to learn.

I’ve always been teachable. A great listener. Interpreter. An eager learner.

Those intoxicating eyes. The cocoa cream, flawless skin. That regal, mythical, yesterday’s-timeless-lady-meets-today’s-modern-woman presence.

To say nothing of that voice.

My god, that silky, come-hither-and-salivate voice that truly has no rival in the American, even global, song annals.

I can’t tell you the countless times I’ve written through the twinkle of nightfall to near dawn while your “Take a Look” masterpiece played in the distance. Your vocals have birthed many a Pamper-Her-Friday creative from my mind to both the hard and e-page.

When I saw you at the Hollywood Bowl a few years back, I sat enthralled . . . and immediately realized I had ample company: Men of all stripes, ages, and colors sat equally mesmerized, some even with their eyes intentionally closed, simply bathing in your majestic lyricism.

Yours was not simply a show. It was an experience. Together with your father’s heritage (you obviously were bequeathed his gifts, among them class personified!), you breathed life into quietly desperate men.

This will make you laugh but I knelt before you after the show and kissed your hand. “Thank you, my dear lady,” I somehow verbalized from a parched throat.

That dream never did come true.

Please come back. I know, I know, how selfish of me, right?

But I, we, have your music. And your father’s. Eternally.

This will make you laugh, Natalie: I still own a near-possessive crush on you. Trust me, every man has that silent, quiet-is-kept crush on a goddess–met or unmet.

Go on and laugh, Natalie. The naive writer is laughable, I know.

But it’s not funny to me.

There’s a cry in my soul soon to emerge.

Thank you for the timeless gift–of you. In God’s arms you’ve now arrived.

Do me a favor: When you see your father up there, give him a gentle kiss on the forehead and tell him Roy asked about him.

My most heartfelt thanks to you both.

Tearfully yet Gratefully,
Rg2

__________________

***

God, pamper Natalie to infinity . . . for me. -Rg2

© 2015 Pamper-Her-Friday by Rg2®