“Come with Me to Big Momma’s Farm”
That ’58 Ford jalopy inherited from my father?
Well, for months I’ve invested sweat equity to restore,
Taking pains and fingertip strains to heal its body
No details, chassis to paint finish, did I ignore
Sorta like my approach to you, woman, in summer
Your spring season lacked the touch of a special man,
Flowers around you bloomed in full view—like you
Little did you know of yours I’m a devoted fan
Yours appears to be a fabulous social media life
Snapshots picture perfect . . . at least at first glance,
But there’s always a backstory lurking beyond the lens
Does that intoxicating face belie disenchantment by chance?
Trust me, you’re not alone, most of the country’s uneasy
When Obama left, remember, he actually shed tears,
He was aware of the pall the horizon would cast
Prayerful the future wouldn’t crystallize our fears
But here we are, back to the future, so to speak
You have faint knowledge of Big Momma’s struggle,
She raised a family, ran a farm, and fought for Civil Rights
Just imagine the responsibilities she had to juggle
I’m going down to the Delta, will you come with me?
Would love to have you nestled in my passenger seat,
We’ll take in the landmarks and -scapes along the way
One another’s thoughts, each passing mile, we’ll complete
My only request before we embark: Take my credit card
To your favored retailer feel free to make a run,
Purchase a bevy of flowing sundresses of your choosing
And fragrance, trinket and foot accessories . . . when done
Let me know if there’s anything more that you desire
I want to make certain roadtrip creature comforts abound,
Phones? Maps? Green Book? Emergency kit? All checked
And the most vintage collection of ‘90s R&B to be found
I’m taking you to Big Momma’s farm to meet a lady icon
We’ll reconnect with ancestral spirits and sacred land,
Rediscover the foundation of the lives we’ve been given
Bear witness to my kissing grandmother’s hand
But before we go, how about a tip-of-summer escape:
A private send-off picnic in the make-over truckbed,
Parked by Castleton Lake under a Pamper-Her-Friday sunset
Reciting poetry in your ear for the sweet days ahead . . .
Ready?
-Rg2
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Pamper the woman . . . for a summer’s romance. -Rg2
© 2018 Pamper-Her-Friday by Rg2®