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Monthly Archives: June 2019

Pamper-Her-Friday by Rg2® 431: ‘Picnic by the Sea: Romance’s Introduction’: ‘A Summer’s Romance Collection’ by Rg2 (124)

 

Dear Meyah,

Is there truth to the prevalent whisper that a majority of women are less than happy in their current relationship—let alone marriage? I dread to think. Say it isn’t so.

Could it be we’re a never-satisfied people? Might it be that she’s seeking an elusive nirvana with him that she, alone, can’t seem to self-generate? Or are our ever-amped expectations of love on the edge of a constant lie?

I haven’t the answers, babygirl. I’m no psychoanalyst. But I am a poet. And, woman, I believe in love. My belief comes with precautions, however. Well, one in particular: How does it feel in my company . . . on a spontaneous picnic . . . on a random summer’s day . . . at the edge of a cliff overlooking a calm, deep, blue sea?

My poem for you:

Rest your body atop my soft-to-touch blanket
Hand-stitched so as not to damage the fragrant grass,
The air’s velocity is tender, so we may share the splendor
A summertime moment has come for us, it has

Tell me where your heart lies at this time, woman
No, the question isn’t loaded—I’m just being real,
Is it on the verge of migration from a cruel host
Few men can interpret a woman’s capacity to feel

Vulnerable yet strong . . . and fragile yet stern
Willing to love, though much less so to trust,
If you entered his life, and he yours, in a haze
The premise was false: relationship or bust?

Nah, babygirl, that mustn’t be how love goes
I can speak from experience, I’ve made mistakes,
I regret not sharing a simple, elegant picnic with her
Having written, alone, my poetry by the ponds and lakes

That have since dried up from a benign neglect
Summer rain, by God, has replenished a few,
I promised myself were I to cross the path
Of a distinctive woman, I’d know just what to do . . .

Slowly, maturely, less cautiously would I
Allow her my company and the privilege of hers,
To share the warmth of an early summer sun
That she may release her truths and if that occurs

Mine, too, will be less inhibited to pour
Into the summertime air that we share on a cliff,
The seaside view we can freely speak into
Just breathe on me girl as I take a slow, deep whiff

Of your fragrance and a gaze into your story-filled eyes
My name is Roy, as was my father’s, too,
May I feed you the comestibles I brought—and my prose
I’m an emotional writer, girl, may I emote on you?

Like no other man alive can, I swear I can
Relinquish those fears you’ve harbored overlong,
If love letters are foreign to you, that neglect is past
Consider this poem the first of a throng . . .

Slowly, maturely, less cautiously can we
Introduce ourselves to one another and say,
It’s okay, it’s truly okay to befriend this writer
Over a cliff’s-edge picnic on Pamper-Her-Friday

Will you join me?

-Rg2

________

***
Pamper the woman . . . for a summer’s romance. -Rg2

© 2019 Pamper-Her-Friday by Rg2®

 

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Posted by on June 28, 2019 in Pamper-Her-Friday

 

Pamper-Her-Friday by Rg2® 430: ‘If Only For A Night: An Idea by Rg2’: ‘A Summer’s Romance Collection’ by Rg2 (123)

 

Dear LaJuana,

I set a table for three for this evening: You; I; and romance.

But before I unleash this intense-yet-tame testosterone upon every crevice, nook and cranny of your mocha body, I’d appreciate your ear on an idea that has consumed my creative mind all day.

Michael Eisner, the former head of Disney global, once said the best ideas can be expressed in a sentence. Here’s mine, love: A make-up/lipstick consumer, in the market to buy, clicks on the Pamper-Her-Friday video channel, to gaze at the latest cosmetics made just for her. On her phone/tablet/desktop, her face appears on the screen; a hologram of her face’s exact dimensions, along with samples of make-up/lipstick, some her favorite brands, others new.

She, via virtual/augmented reality, “tries on” the various products to determine the perfect shade, gloss, hue and/or tint for her unique face. Boom: she chooses what looks best and clicks to purchase product. No need to visit a brick/mortar store to buy the product(s); no gas wasted on a drive to the mall.

The hologram, which is an exact replica of her face, reflects her cosmetic choices for trial. She chooses and buys exactly what she wants without mistake and without having to return an ill-chosen product.

What do you think, love? I’ve already applied for a patent of the idea—it wasn’t yet conceived/taken. Once cleared, we’ll be sitting on a handsome revenue-generator for years and years to come.

This is the age of ideas, after all. And I have another that will presage this cloudy, overcast, unusually cool, Southern California evening before us, this first official day of the summer season: How about I split the patent profits down the middle with you . . . on one condition?

That I may nestle in-between those thick, sweet-scented thighs of yours into the night . . . and simply refuse to come up for air?

Unless I just have to . . .

. . . on Pamper-Her-Friday.

Please come, love.

-Rg2

________

***
Pamper the woman . . . for beginning a summer’s romance. -Rg2

© 2019 Pamper-Her-Friday by Rg2®

 
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Posted by on June 22, 2019 in Pamper-Her-Friday

 

Pamper-Her-Friday by Rg2® 429: ‘Return of the Candlelight Poet: Yours Tonight’: ‘A Summer’s Romance Collection’ by Rg2 (122)

 

Dear Sensual Woman,

Forgive me my absence.

Two months have transpired void of my heart’s writings. Allow me to compensate for the unintended disappearance.

My body is in a state of craving—I need you tonight. I need you to inhabit my thoughts, my fantasy, my very bare-naked soul tonight.

Are you available this evening? No, are you emotionally available? I need the unadulterated, mentally unoccupied you, woman. Tonight. My poetry? Please read further:

Flirting with temptation is worth the risk
I must insert the Sade, Cherish the Day disk

Take me, will you, to your secret pre-summer garden
Should you misinterpret my night kiss, beg my pardon

The body fragrance inherent to you, god, I gladly surrender
All I ask of you tonight? Please don’t be a pretender . . .

Fake not that helpless, pit-of-your-belly flutter
My erotic bravado has me parting the cheeks like butter

Spread to utter perfection, allow me to go to work
Like a skin yeoman bringing gifts—and the ultimate perk:

Warm, gentle oil over these outsized hands
Woman, you’re the crux of my Pamper-Her-Friday plans

Panties are superfluous, yes, indeed, they are
My apologies if my touch leaves your sweet mouth ajar

Have your way with me, this erotic, hypnotic writer
Tonight your designated, exclusive poetry reciter

Has come back to the sacred environs of your soul
To reaffirm I am your one and only lover, my goal

Forgive me my absence as I ignite the candlelight
It’s Pamper-Her-Friday, woman, and I’m all yours tonight . . .

Come.

-Rg2

_______

***
Pamper the woman . . . like an erotic reminder. -Rg2

© 2019 Pamper-Her-Friday by Rg2®

 
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Posted by on June 8, 2019 in Pamper-Her-Friday

 
 
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