Daily Archives: April 22, 2017

The thing about spring is its novel possibility
We can put to pasture any lingering regret,
Such as a dinner invitation gone unaccepted
Or a bookstore date still curiously unmet

The past once passed doesn’t have to be prologue
Recall the white dress you donned in the photo frame?
You wrote, “You would’ve really liked it up close…”
That remains a mind ember of a still-kindled flame

Where’d that dress go . . . is it forever closeted?
Will ever I witness it draped from your shoulders?
Where’d our spring go . . . I can only posit it
Those eyes, woman, your eyes are memory holders

What’s most associated with the coming of spring:
Native flowers so anxious to boast new petals
I will be your water if you’ll be my sunlight
Our carbon dioxide to their roots will settle

Like a woman eager to bask in a new season,
A pantyless stroll through a fresh-bloom meadow
A whiff of his spring cologne provides every reason
To break free from the chains of that emotional ghetto

Of failed lovers you’ve suffered no fault of your own
He had access to your home, though nowhere your heart,
That was last spring, admit it, you weren’t in love
A forgetful season. . .have you examined your part?

Vanessa, where are your thoughts of that romantic writer
He wrote of taking you with him to the water’s edge,
There’s a sunset that shed tears for your mutual absence
Long ago he took the Romantic Oath; his pledge:

Do Her No Harm—more than a medicine man
Woman, these are tumultuous, climactic times,
Should we lose the optimism of a coming spring
I swear, I’ll surrender the value of my nickels and dimes

For what are they if can’t buy me substantive love
I needed to know nothing of you was purchasable,
If they bought you flowers, I’ll take you to dandelions
A field of gold where both our hearts are searchable

For something lying a little deeper than most
My letters, each one, it resonated with you,
My summers, my autumns, my winters laid bare
But it was springtime you realized my ilk is few

Your fragrant hair, the fragrance of your hands
Your lips the texture of them I haven’t known,
If you’ll permit yourself the taste of my spring
Allow this letter to set a romantic tone

I ask for your hand in this arrival of spring
Reintroduce the white dress to a brand-new season,
Let me inspire your heart to a never-before bloom
Pamper-Her-Friday has given me ample reason

To love you like no other.

-Rg2

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Romance lives. -Rg2

© 2017 Pamper-Her-Friday by Rg2®