Pamper-Her-Friday by Rg2®

By tumult, animus . . . Benevolence, where’ve you gone?
Is this a case of anti-love run amok?
The bible speaks of the coming of final days
If we’re visiting the last, woman, I wanna tuck

You securely in my arms in the cradle of Autumn
By all means, voice your hidden fears to me now,
My home is a safehouse reflective of my soul
Come, tonight, I want to share with you my tao

A rare harmony guided by the laws of nature
No proselytizing, no dogma forced upon your ear,
You’re welcome to leave any moment of the night
I just wanna make my intentions clear

You need a safe place, moreover, a sacred space
A woman’s fulfilled when he’s where she wants to be,
Terrorism, climate change, social unrest aren’t leaving
Globalism has left us nowhere to flee

Except to one another, come relax under the cover
of this fluffy, hand-stitched, over-size throw,
I’m reclining the sofa nearer to the hearth flames
The creamy turkey casserole is baking nice and slow

Life itself is a rather fragile thing, isn’t it?
Here today, gone tomorrow has lost its cliché,
If you’d like to be held just a little more snugly
I’ll make it alright, I swear, I’ll make it okay

We mourn yet again, our collective heart is heavy
But I won’t let us descend into despair,
After the darkness of night comes the sunlight
If harmony appears lost, consider me its heir

In my mind I’m going to San Bernardino
Going to San Bernardino in my mind,
Tragedy has visited us once again
But if benevolence is real, I’ve been sent a sign:

Woman, it’s you . . . and I believe it’s true
that an earth angel heaven sent won’t fly away,
For on this night lay grace upon my shoulder
I pray for you and me this blessed Pamper-Her-Friday.

_____________

***

Pamper the woman . . . like there’s no tomorrow. -Rg2

© 2015 Pamper-Her-Friday by Rg2®

With graphs of days and nights between us
As though I’ve been keeping silent count,
That one selfie you sent–a sensual instigator
I screen-touch your eyes, this romantic fount

Triggers an image, your voice surfaces
Playfully massaging my inner ear,
You sang Sade to me with sincerity:
” . . . this may come as a surprise . . . ” I hear

Choo choo, my sweet, there’s a train a-comin’
It reminds me of the little one that could,
Should fuel run out and steam evaporate
I’d push the caboose to get to you, I would

I’m coming home for the holiday this autumn
To that longing residence of your embrace,
You may not let go at the train depot
One another’s wanting body we’ll encase

Have you missed me? Well, show and kiss me
Oh, that’s right, you don’t do the public thing,
Ah, but there’s an exception to every rule
Your neck-covered scarf I’ll gently fling

These warm hands on you like autumn anew
My, you’re more beautiful than before,
A photo simply cannot do justice
The true meaning of Thanksgiving we’ll restore

This trip to bountiful, a cornucopia of blessings
We will truly be to one another,
I’m gonna plate you, Love, and send prayers above
The burden of cooking we’ll relieve your mother:

I’ve brought a satchel of herbs and spices
We’ll do a shopper’s run for all the rest,
A free-range bird with all the fixings
Let’s put our culinary skills to the test

Tickets for the show, snow mountain we’ll go
But above all, the cuddling-by-fireside nights,
Viewing the holiday classics you love
Distracting you with ear nibbles and neck bites

Are you smiling? Well, woman, get to dialing
my number and say it’s me you sorely miss,
I’ll ask the conductor to punch it a bit more
I’m eager to begin our holiday bliss.

Are you?

________________

***
Romance lives. -Rg2

© 2015 Pamper-Her-Friday by Rg2®

A special dark roast from hand-pressed coffee beans
Piping hot with a hint of real vanilla cream,
Your autumn java mug is warm and tray-ready
Your Pamper-Her-Friday imagination this may seem

Hallucination this isn’t, I’m no morning apparition
Let’s get to the root of your insomnia source,
You’ve gone without breakfast in bed seems ages
It’s time that I alter that dreary course

The saucepan I’ve filled with spring water, blue flame
I’ll stir the steaming liquid to a ferocious whirl,
Drop the seasoned egg whites in the storm’s eye
And into the sesame-oiled wok I’ll gently hurl

A potpourri of greenhouse-grown, local veggies
I made a daybreak farmer’s market run,
Poultry sausage basil-, thyme-, and rosemary-infused
Making it jump from the sizzling cylinder–what fun!

Ahh, you can smell it? Well, go run and tell it . . .
“Wow, Roy done gone Emeril Lagasse up in here!”
When a man cooks with a special love in his heart
There’s something about the woman he holds dear

You’d be surprised what a man might venture
He’s capable of going to the greatest of lengths,
History’s littered with Baracks desperately seeking Michelles
It’s just a matter of ironing out the kinks

Such as pulling back your steel emotional curtain
Just enough to take measure of my intent,
You’re afraid to fall into an alluring rapture
Oh, but you’re at total liberty to relent

Breakfast in bed is no second-base invitation
I’d be rather foolish to assume as much,
Will you consider it a warm autumn gesture?
And you must admit: My timing’s clutch

You didn’t sleep well last night, now did you?
I believe I’ve diagnosed your insomnia source,
An extended Pamper-Her-Friday morning sleep
I’ll bring your breakfast, a three-item course:

Autumn java, omelet jubilee . . . and me:
A forehead kiss to take with me on the road,
Sleep well, my Friday morning angel
I’ve got you, woman, in my autumn fold . . .

. . . where you belong.

________________

***

Pamper the woman . . . in autumn. -Rg2

© 2015 Pamper-Her-Friday by Rg2®

Says the country’s ready for a second Clinton
Behold the introduction of the “First Gentleman,”
My, the consolidation of political power in a single family
Two libraries? A second foundation? What fun . . . .

The last glass ceiling appears ready to crumble
We shall witness women ballot power across the land,
Of course you won’t vote simply your identity
But surely you realize history (part 2) is at hand

The challenge, however, is quite daunting
Her predecessor’s imprint looms grand on the scale,
Among the hardest-working American presidents ever
Barack Obama’s accomplishments we must hail:

The domestic automotive sector back from the brink
To say nothing of the entire economy,
The Ledbetter Fair Pay Act; historic healthcare
Trans-Pacific trade and Cuba opened by decree

Did I mention a breathtaking stock-market run?
The likes of which continues to this day,
“We’ll make him a one-term president,” his foes vowed
They’ve only gotten richer; now what can they say?

No 9/11s on his watch and no White House scandals
Has a Chief ever allowed a kid to touch his hair?
“See, it’s just like yours . . . I was once you, young fella”
Imagine meeting a world leader who truly does care

About people, his family, and certainly his country
Without question of his authenticity,
Bill was loved, but he signed unfair sentencing
Can we trust Hillary . . . and to what degree?

Still, her chances I like, barring a scandal henceforth
On her side appears history’s tide,
Remember: The economy, domestic and foreign policy
Most crucial: On your survival does she reside?

I guess it’s a crap shoot, either way, in the end
There’s a measure of hope that accompanies our choice,
And just in case you have buyer’s remorse
I ask that you remember my comforting voice:

I’m here through thick and thin, darkness and light
You’re not gonna get everything you want from politics,
But if we plan ahead for life’s shortcomings
Together we can suffer much easier the licks

Let’s start tonight, an autumn covenant we’ll enter
A promise to love each other by mutual decree,
I’m placing your ballot on the table with my name
Woman, I’m asking you to vote for me

My campaign platform, much more than a slogan:
Every Pamper-Her-Friday a paid holiday,
Why should the one-percenters have all the fun?
My administration believes in work AND play . . . .

See you tonight, Love.

_____________

***

If you want to be pampered like a Republican, vote for Rg2. -anonymous

© 2015 Pamper-Her-Friday by Rg2®

If so, would you pass along this gentle word . . .
A writer in Southern California is willing to interview,
His curriculum vitae at first glance is rather thin
Ah, but behold the wondrous things he can do:

Pull out your cushioned chair from the reserved table;
Lay the cloud-white cloth across your lap;
Whisper, ‘Welcome to my autumn’ in your ear;
And unveil the palmbox dressed in burgundy wrap

Just a little something to set a seasonal tone
As intended, my, how they sparkle against your wrist,
‘Waiter, please, whatever the lady prefers, I’ll have’
If I’m not mistaken, your eyes have gathered a mist

Tell me, what are your entertainment interests?
Perhaps a theatre performance or live poetics show,
You like the design-your-own-kitchen model tours
To next month’s Los Angeles Auto Show we’ll go

Have you decided on plans for Halloween?
Ghouls and goblins aside, we’ll choose costumes:
Your Bonnie, my Clyde; My Count, your Mistress
The tingle between Lois Lane and Clark Kent resumes

Don’t have me turn Superman up in here, woman
I’ll wrap you in my cape and fly you away,
To that enchanted place of happily ever after
Where each day is an autumn Pamper-Her-Friday

Far-fetched, think you? A realm of unreality . . .
Such thoughts are simply beyond the pale?
Well, autumn, for me, holds the sweetest imaginings
So, woman, open your heart to this soft sell:

Come, meet me at the corner of Stratford and Maine
Java at Roy’s serves homemade shepherd’s pie,
The quaint five-table roastery offers a perfect setting
The moment you arrive, you’ll understand why

It’s Pamper-Her-Friday in autumn’s midst
Come dine with me, share a little wine with me,
To launch your weekend on a high, I insist
What do you say we meet around 3?

(set your clock back an hour, Love)

_______________

***

What is it about autumn? Romance . . . . -Rg2

© 2015 Pamper-Her-Friday by Rg2®

A tranche in your name: 10,000 at $14 per
My care-for-you advice? Hold patiently to thirty,
And should the dividend be reinstated
Reinvest while she’s there; I’m feeling flirty

How about you? Or is it solely me?
I believe autumn has permeated my soul,
I’ve got a taste for chicken enchilada soup
Could I interest you in a bowl?

Slowly simmered and gently stirred
Piping hot . . . would you blow on mine to cool?
I like the way you do that; are you blushing?
I’m really trying not to drool

I love it when a woman shows a tender view
Deep down, every man is a willing prey,
Not to be devoured and spat out with abandon
Instead, your velvet hand will win his day

Speaking of which, what’re your plans this evening?
After all, Friday at 5 is the week’s best hour,
Leave the confines of the cubicle, close the shop
I’ll make you a cosmopolitan sweet-and-sour

I sense an extended neck massage is in order
As fingers matriculate along the shoulders,
I feel tension knots thereabout and throughout
Let go . . . for mine are the perfect arm-holders

How about a session of cranial therapy?
Starting with circular rubs near the temples,
Fingerplay at the roots yield hair-growth shoots
You like? Uh huh, I see it in your dimples

Yes, this is how I introduce Pamper-Her-Friday
We’ll ease gently into this crisp autumn night,
We can take the town on tomorrow if we care
This evening I want you by candlelight

Shall we raise our glasses for a toast?
To Oprah, to autumn . . . and namely to you,
There’s a difference between living and existing
We’re in the sweet spot, woman, am I on cue?

_____________

***

Pamper the woman . . . in autumn. -Rg2

© 2015 Pamper-Her-Friday by Rg2®

Well, I’m asking . . . here, right now:
Have I entered the security door of your mind?
Why my inquiry? For autumn has arrived
Perhaps you’re in need of an emotional bind

No, no entanglement of the complicating sort
Your things-to-do list appears already in arrears,
Rather, a safe passage into a promising new season
A little pampering compensation for the lost years

How do I know your story? Actually I don’t
I guess I’m surmising on pure instinct,
But you’re not the first to be deprived of affection
When I gazed into your eyes, you helplessly blinked

Something’s amiss about your life, dare I say
Has it to do with the approach of autumn?
Chilly mornings now await your restless sleeps
And ghosts of boyfriends past–you’ve fought ’em

Valiant have been your efforts to keep fear at bay
Yours is a fortress of a defense mechanism,
“I won’t open myself to anyone,” you’ve self-vowed
Exercising your own brand of love nativism

“No Entry” . . . the sign you’ve worn long enough
Your firewall, I admit, is nearly immune to hacking,
But I’m the writer of the rarest software code
My autumn algorithms even have CIA backing

Ever so close I am to figuring you out
A brief study I began through the Starbucks window,
Sitting there, sipping there, alone were you
A periscope capture in motion so slow

In walks a most handsome fall mind-toucher:
“Hello, would you mind if I take a seat?”
“No . . . I mean yes . . . I mean no,” your reply
You awaken from the dream with leaves at your feet

Autumn has arrived; so, too, woman, have I
Selected an extra pair of mittens–just in case,
Simply release the glove compartment latch there
Now ease back, relax, and enjoy the pace

What are you doing this fall, to honor autumn?
By chance, have I ever crossed your mind?
Let’s explore the possibilities over candlelight dinner
No, I’m not proposing an emotional bind

Unless my instinct’s correct: Something’s amiss
How long can you keep my affections at bay?
Autumn is a season of companionship bliss
No better time to begin than Pamper-Her-Friday.

__________

***

Romance lives . . . in autumn. -Rg2

© 2015 Pamper-Her-Friday by Rg2®

Pause for a moment and ask yourself:
What if we lost fall, ignored its postcard trees,
What if it simply left sans notice
Why, whose hand would I gently squeeze?

Near the end of a West Central Park walk
Beneath floating flakes of falling leaves,
Timidly, you; a bit tepidly, me
There’s this image my mind retrieves:

Of when Harry initially met Sally . . . and
Barack laid eyes on Michelle that first time,
When Kanye met Kim . . . uh, well, not quite
But I needed this stanza to rhyme

I sense a smile from the gentle reader
Did you not think I could make you laugh?
A romance scribe can’t be serious all the time
I guess I’m prone to the occasional gaffe

So, too, am I capable of inspiring thought
The kind that lingers after a shared cocoa,
All the better if it begins to rain
Fresh zucchini bread should be eaten slow

To savor each morsel and time well spent
Autumn in no way likes to be rushed,
There’s a patterned scarf I saw in the window
When I mentioned Pamper-Her-Friday, you blushed

I swear, there was something angelic about you
I don’t throw around such a hallowed term with ease,
Not wanting to overstay my popcorn visit
Brevity’s my hallmark, yet an autumn breeze

Is how I would describe our brief exchange
It could very well have been the last,
In the movie, they were to meet at the tower’s top
I was determined not to regret the past

You see, autumn offers the perfect transition
To consider the possibilities of a storybook fling,
To re-meet again, can we repeat within
Our hello to the coming of a second spring

The bell has rung, I guess I should dismiss myself
But let me say what it is I need to say,
I swear, there’s just something about you, woman
Will you come away with me this Pamper-Her-Friday . . . ?

_____________

***

A woman is most romantic . . . in autumn. -Rg2

© 2015 Pamper-Her-Friday by Rg2®

Mistaken may be my imagination
Perhaps they’re wishful visions mine own see,
I gazed your disappearance with the tide
I deposited the letter in the bottle gently

Carefully, precisely I enumerated the times
Absent your company–grateful they were few,
From feeding the doves to sharing hidden loves
That magic night of The Taming of the Shrew

On my forehand you rested your supple palm
For what was our inaugural summer’s touch,
Held it there for a noticeable while did you . . .
A natural impulse–my, did I like it much

For the record, I never required strings
Had you not become my summer to be,
With luck, I’d have fared just as well
But you affirmed there is serendipity

That insists on staying awhile longer
That sunsets reveal their romantic meanings,
Never take for granted their majesty will I
Nor your head-on-my-shoulder intervenings

Why must summer end, my mind foolishly asks
Temporal are the many facets of life,
Passages, not promises, of a chance romance
Serendipity, like enchantment, doesn’t run rife

But I can’t let go . . .

From an endless summer’s final goodbye–
That word I simply cannot say,
So hear me, woman:
“May I have your autumn love now that
summer’s flown away?”

_________________

***
Pamper the woman . . . and romance her in autumn. -Rg2

© 2015 Pamper-Her-Friday by Rg2®

A Romance in Autumn

Might you be the perfect stranger?

Might I be the most imperfect friend, intriguingly?

I was confident in my ask for your company over lunch–just enough to expect a “no, thank you.” Rejection, or, rather, a soft decline, has more than one definition. It’s rarely permanent . . . when a woman has the benefit of time. Mind time; heart time; thought time.

Printing my number instead of asking for yours is less than chivalrous, perhaps. But doesn’t it provide you a harmless out, in the event you lack the interest on further thought?

There’s little worse than a man contacting a woman who simply doesn’t want to be bothered. The “out” is yours. The soft decline is absolutely in your purview, your prerogative.

But so is the “in.”

My father once deposited in my ear, “You never know who you’re going to meet in this life . . . you may just be her sigh.”

Have you ever sighed after dinner . . . with the perfect stranger?
Well, the number’s not gonna dial itself. The text is certainly not gonna send itself. Either proposition is the ideal “out.” Sure enough.

But, gosh, there’s curiosity in the “in.” No?

It’s your prerogative.

I’m not a botherer. I certainly won’t bother you.

Unless you want to be.

To quote a wise man, We just never know who we’re gonna meet in this life, do we?

She may just be the perfect stranger.

So, too, may he.

Gosh.

Invitationally,
Rg2

________________

***

Put something in her mind . . . on Pamper-Her-Friday. -Rg2

© 2015 Pamper-Her-Friday by Rg2®