Like most homes with kids, bedtime meant stories. In our house, it was tall tales and ghost stories told by my dad.
Learning how to cast shadow puppets against the wall, and tales of shooting and twinkling stars were my favorites. Especially if we had just seen it from the varandah before bedtime. Then, there were the magical tales of the moon. Always the moon.
Ellie and Portia always wanted to know why did the cow jump over the moon? Also, what was the man in the moon doing while this was happening? To this my dad always had an answer, a different one everytime, and more fantastical than the last. Ellie and Portia would get really quiet. Those two – “…In their dreams they sleep with the moon… “
Pat R
9/15/20
For Prosery Monday over at dVerse Poets Pub hosted by Merril where the rule is to use this line in your prose, no alterations, in no more that 144 words.
“In their dreams
they sleep with the moon.”–From Mary Oliver, “Death at Wind River”
To read and participate go here
Oh, Pat–this is exquisite, I so love it! Wish I’d had a dad like that 🙂
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He could spin a tall tale😊
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That would be marvelous–I’m sure you have lots of great memories.
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That I do😊
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😊
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I’m not sure if this is true or fiction, but either way, it captures a lovely childhood time–a story-telling father, scary things that weren’t real, and sweet dreams.
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It was true. The one spinning the yarn would be my dad😊. Glad you like it.
Pat
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I did. ❤️
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