Tuesday, December 15, 2009

Lady Moon ~ by Robert Morschel of Harbinger*33

 Lady Moon
                                   ~ by Robert Morschel

Liesel turned to me. “Dad?”


“Why do they say there is a man in the moon?”

We were sitting in our back garden, sipping cocoa and staring up at the incandescent moon above us.

“Well”, I replied, “I suppose it is because if you look carefully you can see two eyes, a mouth, ...”

“I know that, Dad,” she interrupted, sardonic in the way only a female teenager can be, “but why is it a man and not a woman? I mean, those eyes are heavily made up, and if you look carefully to the sides there is even a hint of rouge!”

I chuckled. I suppose she had a point, and said so, which pleased her immensely - she was like her mother in that regard: she liked to be right. 

We sat silently, gazing at our Lady Moon, enjoying each others company, dad possibly more than daughter, but I am not proud: somewhere around the age of thirteen Liesel stopped being my little princess, and turned into this slightly detached woman-daughter of mine, so I was grateful for the moment.

Suddenly she stirred, interrupting my reverie, and got up stretching. “I think I'll go to bed now.”

“Ok, my love,” I replied. “Call me when you're ready for me to tuck you in.”

She looked at me awkwardly. “It's OK, Dad. You keep an eye on Lady Moon for us. You know what she's like.”

I smiled, though my heart wrenched at the same time. “Night, Sweetie. Sleep tight.”

I watched her as she walked off, noticing for the first time a little feminine sway of her hips. How quickly she was growing up. Lady Moon continued to beam benevolently on me, offering some comfort to my bruised emotions. I looked up at her.

“Well, there you are,” I said. “My little girl is turning into a young woman. What have you to say about that?”

She did not answer, but I sensed that she understood.


 (c) Robert Morschel, 2009 ~ of Harbinger*33, where . . . when you're very fortunate, you'll read MORE!

* * * * * *
Robert Morschel, known as well to readers well as Mulled Vine is both fine vintage and churning thought. He'll take a train to a reality based place in his world, and put laptop to lap, and out will pop musings and impressions which splash an unfathomable depth to ponder. Oh how this wry-guy will make your inner-grin happen. Oh how this tender man will pluck at your heart strings in his on target views of the humanity he comes to view . . . and share with you. Sir Robert (to me) has writing which can ne'er be suppressed. His ink is his lifeblood ~ and therein', dear gentle reader we receive just reward.

LADY MOON is to be a series, a luminary collective philosophy between planets and thoughts and hearts and minds. Watch for it, as it continues to pluck at higher truths and higher selves out under any night sky. Honoured am I to once again duet with distinction and class which is this author's innate trademark upon writing walls we scrawl.

Aboard the mighty ship Harbinger*33, Robert Morschel is really a pirate. It didn't take that gasping parrot shoved in the oaken sea chest leaving the feathery tail trail that Michael Solender astutely reported, rather than NOT. Peggy found the spare peg leg - a natural deduction. None of this escaped Leon's private eye. The eye patch though didn't turn up for a fortnight at sea. You see, Jodi thought it a slingshot and was having a non-scurvy of a time with her limes, until Harry swiped it back to its natural owner, which inspired Paul to write a bloody tell-tale of the purloining crime, and Jeanette whispered a ladylike thing or two to Jodi while Laurita tittered. (She did, she tittered). Mike found this all very fine fodder for song lyrics and ignored Mongo to become a new Gilligan.

What's that? More? More Mulled Morschel of the meandering vine mind ~ Step softly into  MULLED VINE < right here.
Then without fear, peer into what A DIARY OF AN OLD FART has to suggest about our peer.

Topsail thanks to you my trusted friend Robert . . . True inspiration happens all the more when you reach in and splash around across a mere pond, where a grand mind is flowing. A deux avec vous always is so true. Vraiment! Toujours! Honoured we all are that your mulling talents are aboard Harbinger*33, sailing to its publishing journey of manifesting destinies.

~ Introspection and knowing smiles which see; FairWinds, Favourable Seas

~ Absolutely*Kate + readers remembering Mulled voice all the more


Gerry Hatrić said...

Lady Kate, you have bestowed such honour on me this day. I bow my head in humble acceptance of your celestial radiance.

Sir Robert

Kate Pilarcik ~ absolutely said...

Sir Robert, no ruminating our luminating. You KNOW you stirred and spurred me on to Lady Moon to your soft tender croon. Proceed under all night skies. I'm standing by . . . and lovin' it. (and honoured)

~ Lady*Kate, absolutely

Adullamite said...

Typical female.
It has always been the Man in the moon but they want to change it after millennia!
Put her in the kitchen where she belongs!

Linda Ryan-Harper said...

Teenagers always see right through us clear to the moon. Well, Liesel, sweetie, the Man in the Moon is very theatrical and plays a part in many a drama as well as farce. Or maybe, he's into Goth, but he's definitely a man for he is made of green cheese and we women are made of brie.

Harry said...

Very sweet story Robert.

Anonymous said...

Robert, as a woman that has three daughters.
I followed along with memories of each of mine. This is beautiful and I'm happy that you own your feelings.

Angel Zapata said...

A very delicate and graceful story. The idea of a female moon is wonderful. It's good to know that every night I step out my door and into night sky some chick is checking me out.