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Rated: · Short Story · Comedy · #1027887
This is just a story
THE TRUE STORY OF LADARYLDT AND LAWONDA
FRIVOLOUS PURSUIT OF THE MOSS MAN
BOURGEOIS BLUES

Lawonda was a woman of conviction. She had long ago determined that she would wed young, produce a brood of children and live off the wages of her husband. Her husband, her ideal man, would be hard-working and handsome, though not necessarily intelligent. In fact, Lawonda had often considered that intelligence in a man dampens his appeal – it can, in fact, lead a man to find her direct and committed (though clearly narrow) mindset rather harrowing. Indeed, Lawonda needed a man not taken to asking questions but who nevertheless possessed sufficient aptitude to ensure a comfortable life for her and her offspring.

It would happen in her nineteenth year that she would chance upon a man fitting aptly her ideals. She had, for the one-hundred and sixty-eighth consecutive night, gone out to the local tavern in order to imbibe in some alcohol and tempt her future mate. She had adorned herself in her customary courtship costume; the shortest of short skirts, and the tiniest of tiny tops, beneath her skirt she wore a pair of crotch-less underwear which she imagined would be an erotic thing for a man, and beneath her top a push-up bra to make the most of her bust. Very little was concealed by her collection of costumes of this nature – indeed most of her bosom was outside of her top and at least part of her backside protruded from the top of her skirt. Nonetheless, she found it attractive and assumed men would also.

It happened that the tavern was filled with a number of candidates that fateful night. It was the Saturday evening following the grand final of the local football competition and the winning team was at the local continuing their festive celebrations which they had begun at the football club house. What luck for Lawonda. She thought to herself, ‘how lucky am I that the very type of men which I consider fit for breeding are here and in such strong numbers.’ Lawonda scanned the group of athletic young men to see if there was one standout member who particular appealed to her eye. Each man was tall, young, apparently fit and certainly they were all intoxicated – a feature Lawonda knew to facilitate the bedding of a mating candidate.

She continued to survey the men and evaluate her options but after some time she was unable to make a decision. In situations like this, she knew there was only one thing that she could do. Placing her glass of bourbon whiskey and cola on a table, she stood and walked over to the group. She was swinging her hindquarters as much as possible, in the manner that her mother had taught her was irresistible to men, and pushing out her chest in the manner that men had taught her draws the eye to the cleavage. As she approached the group their joyous banter quietened momentarily. Their glasses were all held at chest level and their eyes had settled on that area of her chest that she was doing so well to exhibit. From this position, she had found, she was best suited to examine the ring-fingers of men without them noticing. She spoke, “If any of you handsome, young boys are interested in continuing the party in some female company, I’ll be outside. In the car park. In the back of my car. Drunk.” She spoke as huskily as she could, trying to affect the vixens that she had seen in movies, temptresses all of them. She walked off the way she had come being sure to gyrate her rear as much as was practicable whilst still maintaining forward momentum. A wink over her shoulder caused an eruption of cheers from the group.

Lawonda finished the last of her drink in a hearty draught and went out to the car park. She found her vehicle – in fact it was her father’s utility – and set about spreading a blanket across the tray. She also took time to place a box of prophylactics within reach at the back. Lawonda was no fool. She wanted to sample the men’s wares but did not want to risk breeding with the wrong mate. And so Lawonda always carried an assortment of latex contraceptives. Just as she had finished setting up a group of the footballers came out and headed her way. She quickly counted them in her head. Good, ten – the one box of condoms would do just nicely. Several of them were still drinking and a couple had even brought out some ‘spares’ to drink whilst they waited their turn. Lawonda beckoned them over and before long had set about sampling the first man. He had been rather excited and had not really impressed Lawonda. She smiled him away and encouraged the others to form a queue. The next three were all very good candidates and well-endowed. She asked them to stay around for a second attempt later. They agreed. Four more men tried their luck but Lawonda found only one potential mate among them. The second to last one was an embarrassment, frankly, for Lawonda. She had never experienced a man with such a thin piece of equipment and was delighted to bid him farewell before he finished. She had scolded him harshly and he had left looking dejected. The last one, now he was something else. He had consumed most of a litre of whiskey whilst waiting his turn and continued to drink whilst he performed his duties. Lawonda revelled in the pleasures that his flesh was able to provide her and was extremely pleased with the dimensions of his genitals. She was exhausted from ecstasy by the time he had climaxed and she pantingly ordered the waiting finalists away – she had found her man. Oh! How she enjoyed his flesh and his remarkable ability to drink alcohol in coitus.

After the other, unsuccessful, footballers had returned to the bar and their revelry, Lawonda invited the young man to sit in the front of the car to make introductions. He introduced himself as Ladaryldt Jones. Lawonda’s heart skipped a beat – could it be true? Could he really be called Ladaryldt? Ladaryldt was one of the names that she had selected for her as yet unborn children. It was so exotic and tasteful, thought Lawonda and felt that it fitted really well with her own name. This was a sign. She suggested that they go somewhere quiet to ‘get to know one another’ better. He told her his address and she promptly started the car and headed off in the general direction. They were soon to be there.

Lawonda’s eyes were wide open and her mouth agape as they stepped out of the car at Ladaryldt’s house. It was just what she had dreamed for herself. A three bedroom brick veneer home, in a suburban estate full of bourgeois folk and bourgeois ideas. Lawonda knew that if she succeeded in wooing this man into marriage that this was the kind of dwelling that he would secure for his family. A man of his stature wouldn’t settle for a caravan like the one in which she, her parents and siblings resided. This was her dream. This is what she would make his dream. And he would secure it for her.

They clambered through the front door and on to Ladaryldt’s bedroom. Once inside, they immediately began kissing each other passionately and clawing at each other’s clothes to remove them. Once in bed, naked, Ladaryldt began his motions but after only a few strokes of his loins in hers, he groaned, turned red in the face and fell asleep. Lawonda was not overly disappointed however – she had already received more than adequate pleasure on the back of the ute’. She had enjoyed several orgasms with Ladaryldt and a few from the various other men that evening. It was reasonable, then, for her to allow Ladaryldt this one shortcoming after his sterling efforts previously. She lay in the odd-smelling bed, her head on his chest and her hand toying with the hair that ran from his crotch to his navel. There she lay, confident that Ladaryldt had impregnated her and certain that he would be the type of man easily manipulated – at least enough so that she could secure him in wedlock. Then, she knew, he would commit to fulfilling her dreams of suburban house ownership, child-rearing and wine-fuelled content in her life. She knew, at the moment of his ejaculation, that Ladaryldt was bound to her and bound to her aspirations. Lawonda finally fell into a deep sleep after performing some somewhat unnecessary self-love, all the while fantasising about the pleasures of conformity – this idea was somehow capable of sending her into a sexual frenzy.

The next morning as Lawonda opened her eyes, she saw the weak light above her flickering, which worried her already hung-over brain and the pounding in her head was almost unbearable. Exacerbating the pounding in her head was the sound of bickering that was resonating throughout the house – something about Ladaryldt being a good for nothing and questions as to who the tramp was. Lawonda could make no sense of the conversation and concluded that those who were arguing must have been talking about another Ladaryldt, one not so virtuous as hers. The Ladaryldt they spoke of was something of a deadbeat if the banter was to be heeded and was certainly unlikely to live in a suburban palace as this one. Lawonda got out of bed and went to the bathroom that she had used last night, in order to relieve her bladder of tension. Once upon the toilet she began urinating and felt a familiar burning emanating from betwixt her legs. “Curses!” said Lawonda aloud and examined herself with a probing finger. It certainly was a familiar burn – it was a urinary tract infection. Lawonda had dealt with these before. She resigned herself to the fat that she would now have to use her ointment again but felt comfortable knowing that Ladaryldt too would be feeling the early pangs of the infection and was soon to be ensnared in wedlock by her – once Ladaryldt discovered that she was indeed pregnant.

Two months later, Lawonda and Ladaryldt became engaged. Lawonda was truly pregnant – Ladaryldt’s family could not deny it any longer. And so at four months pregnant, after being doted on endlessly by Ladaryldt, Lawonda became his bride. The wedding was of the very type she had imagined since her youth – white dress, church, many jealous friends – and suited Lawonda just fine. After the wedding, Lawonda had to satisfy her physical desires with the best man – Ladaryldt’s brother. Ladaryldt was busy with excessive imbibition among his friends and Lawonda needed to be satisfied as she had been drinking as well and was feeling somewhat randy. After an exhaustive five-minute search for her new husband she settled on the best man. It was a relatively lack-lustre coupling and was over quickly enough that Lawonda could return to the reception without rousing much suspicion. The brother, Latravys, returned to the reception as well and joined in drinking with his big brother.
As the ninth month of pregnancy grew closer, Lawonda swelled with child and was growing quite plump. Ladaryldt was delighted. As proud as a man could be he showed off his wife and bairn, and doted upon her every minute. He was determined to make their life as pleasant as he could despite his simple-mindedness. He began planning his families life long before the birth of their child – he knew the value of planning now. When the time came for Lawonda to give birth, Ladaryldt was by her side throughout the ordeal. Ladaryldt recoiled during the actual birth, not for the sight of blood or gore but for the torrent of foul language that spilled forth from his wife’s mouth, each word expletive, cursing and at best were more fitting for a sailor’s vocabulary than that of a mother-to-be. But after some hours, Ladaryldt and Lawonda sat in their hospital room nursing their daughter. After much deliberation, they decided to name the daughter Laquinta Shaquana Fluffygirl Jones. Lawonda thought it was a beautiful name and was delighted with the mutual decision. What she did not tell Ladaryldt was that she had selected the names of all of her children long before she had conceived. But Ladaryldt, being the type of man that he was, gave little resistance to the selection and, indeed, seemed as delighted with it as Lawonda. Now that the child was born Ladaryldt had to seriously commit himself to planning a future for his family. He sat down with some maps and books to study and thus determine which would be the finest place that he could raise his family. It was not long before he found a place.

Lawonda shook her head slowly. She had planned all her life for a simple minded husband who would devote himself to her. She had planned for a husband committed to finding his own happiness in assuring hers. But now her wits were strained. Ladaryldt was excitedly pointing at a road map, shaking it all-the-while in her face. He was ranting; she had never seen him so excited. He was pointing to a place on the map and telling Lawonda that he had made quite the discovery. He had found a farming community where he could fulfil two of his life’s passions – cultivating and selling loam and topsoil whilst pursuing a mythical creature. He had found a town where he could do that. “It must be the place,” he was saying, “the town is called Moss Man after the fabled creature. Years ago I learned of this monster – a bipedal beast composed entirely of moss. He was an ally of He-Man, a great warrior sworn to protect the weak and to rule as Master of the Universe. It has long been thought that he retired to Orko’s garden on planet Eternia after helping the Masters of the Universe defeat Skeletor. But now, thanks to the evidence I found in this old road map, I know of his true whereabouts. This must be the place where he now resides, probably raising his own family. Lawonda, this is where we must set up. I could support my hunting by selling loam and topsoil from the dirt farm. Please, agree to this. You have no idea how important finding the Moss Man is to me. If only I knew where Stinkor lived as well, I could find them both and set up the battle that never was. Lawonda, I want this family to grow in Moss Man. That’s the final word on it, and I assume you agree to it.” Lawonda was speechless. Was this the limit of her husband’s cognitive powers? Of course, she knew of the town and knew that it was called Mossman and not Moss Man. But she knew that as long as Ladaryldt was happy, he would be happy to serve her and so it was in her best interests to keep him pleased. She told him, “My darling Ladaryldt, of course we can move to Moss Man. I only want for you to be happy. I think it is very important that you pursue your dreams and if hunting down the enigmatic Moss Man is what you want to do, then I am behind you. The Jones family will, of course, move to Mossman. I mean, we will move to Moss Man.” The couple smiled at each other and set about planning their future.

The Jones trio finally made the journey to Mossman and Ladaryldt was able to secure a loan with which he made purchase of his dirt farm. Whilst he waited for his crop of topsoil and loam to set in, he secured some second hand binoculars and other ‘watching’ tools. He would patrol his farm as long as there was light, tirelessly searching for the Moss Man. He continued to do so for over one year, during which time he was able to sell of enough dirt to pay a large amount of his loan back. During the same period of time Lawonda fell pregnant again and gave birth – this time to a boy. The boys name was Latravis Raquiem Jones and was the spirit and image of his father. Lawonda grew to actually love Ladaryldt. She had always loved him, but so far only as much as she loved his ability to sexually gratify her and produce children. And she had also loved his ability to fulfil her dreams of middle-class-ed-ness and his commitment to providing her with all of the bourgeois things which she felt indicated a full and fruitful life. She could shop via television, purchase the latest in fashionable clothing and join many of the middle-class white clubs that existed in the town. It was an invitation to a function of one of her middle-class clubs that Ladaryldt’s dream was shattered.

Lawonda was introducing Ladaryldt to her fellow club members. “Yeah, this is me hubbie, Ladaryldt. He’s a farmer, specialising in dirt. We sell loam, topsoil and gravel. He grows it all himself. He’s also hung like a horse, know what I mean girls?”
The other middle-class women laughed along with her and patted their bellies. They were obviously quite taken by the physical attractiveness of Ladaryldt, he was still tall and strong as when Lawonda had met him – perhaps a bit rugged, but still handsome. Ladaryldt chose this as his time to speak. “Yep, I’m a dirt farmer. I’ve got a beautiful crop coming along at the moment, so tell your husbands. But the real reason I’m here is to hunt down the Moss Man. You folk must have seen some sight of him at some point right? Pounding up and down the hills on his primitive feet, perhaps with his moss children. Tell me, where is the most common place to sight him?”
The other ladies looked at each other and held back chuckles. Lawonda looked at her husband in shock. What was he thinking? She had humoured his Moss Man fantasy, but she knew that others would not be so kind. She was staring at him desperately, as if willing him to withdraw his comments and thus reverse the damage that he was going to inflict on her name and his self-esteem. She knew it was far too late, though, when one of the women spoke, “What are you talking about? There is no Moss Man. This town is called Mossman; not Moss Man. Surely you are kidding. Are you referring to the Moss Man that my kids watch on the He-Man cartoons? Please tell us that you’re joking.”
“Um,” Ladaryldt started, “Oh yeah. Of course. Ha. I fooled you.” Ladaryldt was trying his best to hide the hurt, but his heart was broken. It was all he could do to keep from crying and when he saw the shame in Lawonda’s eyes the remnants of his heart crumbled. “I just remembered,” he continued, “I have some dirt to tend to at the farm. I have to get back.” With that, Ladaryldt took to heel and fled out of the clubhouse at speed. Lawonda turned to her friends and chuckled, nervously.
“Oh that Ladaryldt,” she began, “he will be the death of me. He’s always making jokes like that. Why, just last year – in Melbourne – he was talking about where to find Bat Man in the botanical gardens. He is a lark isn’t he?” Lawonda tried to compose herself and managed to produce a semblance of a laugh. “But on other matters,” she continued, “have you seen the new infomercial for the massage care seat covers. I’m going to order one next month, once I’ve finished paying for our Kitchen Wizard™.”
And so conversation continued like this, and Lawonda was not prepared to leave the club until she was sure that Ladaryldt’s incident had been forgotten or accepted as a joke. After a few club sodas and some whiskey sours, Lawonda decided it was safe to go home. She bid farewell to her club friends and set off to drive home.

Lawonda arrived back at the family home that night and, after paying the baby-sitter and putting Laquinta and Latravis to bed, she went to the bedroom where she expected to find Ladaryldt. When she didn’t see him there, she went to look for him in the lounge room where he often fell asleep whilst drinking beer and watching his ‘stories’. When she didn’t find him there, she set about searching through the house – room by room. When she did not find him in any room in the house she began to panic. Had her constant nagging driven him to finally leave her, as she had always feared it would? Had the incident at the clubhouse driven him to take his own life; his dreams shattered and his heart broken? Had he left her for another woman? Lawonda resolved to kill such a woman in the event that that was the case. A thought, an urgent stroke of genius, came to her. Perhaps Ladaryldt was tinkering about in his shed in the backyard as he was prone to do.

Lawonda made her way out through the back door to the yard in which Ladaryldt had erected his shed. As she approached the shed she began to hear moaning – satisfied moaning – the kind with which she had long associated with the pleasures of sex. She stood at the door of the shed for some time, listening and steeling herself for what she knew in her heart was the imminent discovery of her husband’s infidelity. Every groan that Lawonda heard coming from within that small tin erection was like a dagger through her heart. She wanted the noise to stop, or to turn and run from the offending sounds but found herself oddly compelled to them. She wanted to see, with her own eyes, what she could hear; to catch her husband mid-throe in his fitful groan-inducing act. The sight of it would justify her fears and anger and allow her the violent release she would need to dispatch the trollop Ladaryldt was apparently fornicating with. She took some deep breaths to calm herself and then cleared her mind. Lawonda braced herself and then, in one flowing movement, she turned the handle and flung the shed’s door open. Nothing could have prepared Lawonda for what she saw. She simply could not take in all that horror at once.

It was the first time that Lawonda had seen inside Ladaryldt’s shed, having never had cause to approach it, much less look inside before. It was not what she had imagined it to be. Aside from a few derelict tools hanging on the walls, it was set up very much like a small kitchen – replete with a small dining table to one side and a relatively long counter. And seated at said table was Ladaryldt. Lawonda did not know what to make of the scene in front of her. He had a serviette tucked into the collar of his shirt and his right hand was outstretched to Lawonda – half as if to say ‘stop’ and half to hide himself from her eyes. From his mouth came two things. The first thing was a bellowing and resounding ‘No!’ followed by ‘my secret shame’. The second thing that came from his mouth was the more puzzling of the two things, for as it came from his mouth, over his reddened lips, she recognised it instantly but what she could not fathom was why? Why was this her husband’s secret shame? Why not gay porn, gambling or fetishism? For what fell from Ladaryldt’s mouth was a morsel of what could only be deep-fried sock. Lawonda didn’t understand – why was he eating her sock? Is this what he had been doing every time he came out to his shed? It would certainly explain the large number of socks that simply went ‘missing’ from the clothes line. She stood, her mouth agape, for what felt like hours. She was trying to piece it all together.

Finally, Lawonda spoke. “Ladaryldt, what are you doing? Is that my sock? I had no idea that you had such a lovely kitchen out here. Or that you could cook. Please, tell me what’s going on here.”
“Oh, Lawonda. Don’t look at me; I’m hideous. It’s been my secret shame for years. As long as I can remember I’ve wanted to eat socks, underwear – anything cotton. And so I worked on recipes, little variations on regular dishes I liked until I found a few which really went well with cotton. Please, don’t judge me for this. It doesn’t change anything. I still love you but I must eat socks every now and then. It simply helps me purge stress and worry from my body. After this afternoon at the clubhouse – oh, the embarrassment – I had to rush back here and eat some of your socks. I’m sorry, it helps me feel better about myself.”
Lawonda approached her husband and sat on his lap, placing her arm around his neck. She patted his back and stroked his hair, assuring him, “Oh Ladaryldt, please, nothing that happened at the clubhouse is important. And if you want to eat my socks, you’re welcome to them all. And my underwear. Eat whatever clothes of mine you want.”
“You really mean it? I feel so much better. I thought you would hate me for this. Most people find it weird. My sock consumption caused many a conflict among me and my siblings. I was hoping to hide this from you for as long as possible. I meant to tell you one day but now – oh why now? – you have caught me in the despicable act. I really do feel so much better now that I have your blessings. Does this mean I can now cook and eat socks in the kitchen inside?”
“Of course. I don’t think any less of you for your sock eating. In fact, I find it fascinating. Even more remarkable is how well-equipped your kitchen-shed is and the beautiful aromas. Tell me – how did you cook your sock?”
“What? Oh, okay then. Well, first I marinade it in a soy sauce, garlic, onion, lemon juice and lime leaves. Then I steam it over water with four bunches of lemon grass in it. It’s then battered in a secret mix of mine and flash fried in that fryer over there. Then, finally, I top it with some selected spices and pan fry it to retrieve what flavours may have been lost in the flash fry. Then it simply melts in your mouth. I say, would you like to try some?” Ladaryldt pushed the plate towards his wife.
“No thank you husband. It should be your own meal. I don’t have to share it with you – this secret shame – but certainly, what you cook is yours. I’m delighted in your culinary skills though. From now on, we shall share the cooking duties.”
The couple agreed. Lawonda sat by her husband whilst he ate his sock and told him tales of her day. They laughed together and made great plans. Lawonda had truly grown to love this man for all his shortcomings and Ladaryldt had truly felt loved for the first time.

As time went by the couple grew together; learning the intricacies of each other’s lives, their kinks, their flaws, virtues and vices. The couple’s love cemented itself and Lawonda was rarely out of pregnancy, her womb proving fertile, Ladaryldt proving voracious and the couple proving their increasing fecundity. All of this did, of course, place stress on their marriage. Ladaryldt was working fourteen hour days on his dirt farm, cultivating ever richer crops of loam, topsoil, gravel and earth. He made handsome coin of his labours, though, and could thereby afford his family; their needs, wants and fulfilment of their dreams. Lawonda doted on her children, sending them to school, nursing them when they were ill, feeding and clothing them. The children were well loved. The parents were well loved – both between themselves and by their children. The children – Laquinta, Latravis, Shaquim, Rochelle and little Ladarlydt Junior – would regularly make gifts of gathered weeds, broken things that they had found and all manner of drawings and other creations. The gifts were always lovingly received by the parents and displayed proudly. In this manner – of love and attention –the Jones family did grow together. In the same manner the family grew old and separated – physically, though not emotionally – and they were always in contact and close enough to come together in the event of family bereavement or some other troubles. Ladaryldt died quite old, at the age of sixty-seven, and he died having worked hard for his loved ones every day of his life. His wife grieved for him, briefly, before deciding that she was far too fickle a creature to be alone and that she needed the love of a good man. Within months she had selected and sampled a number of men to fill the void left by the death of her husband. Much to the chagrin of her children, Lawonda also invited him to live in the house Ladaryldt had built and tend to the dirt crops that Ladaryldt had left. When their mother died, shamefully in the throes of passion with the plumber who had been sent to ‘fix her pipes’, none of Ladaryldt’s children attended the funeral shunning it in honour of their father. She was conferred to the earth at Ladaryldt’s dirt farm and the children hastily sold the property – and their mother’s remains – to a local dirt farmer who had long been envious of the superior produce from Ladaryldt’s farm.

Laquinta had children of her own – four of them – the eldest of which was named after Ladaryldt. She had married a foreign man but lived in much the same area as she was raised as she wanted to be close to her brothers and sisters. She had no bourgeois fantasies like her mothers and was happy living outside of the suburbs. She had no middle-class connections as the husband was firmly working class and she liked the simplicity of a life not filled with gadgets and home shopping and property. Youngest brother Ladaryldt grew to be a successful farmer in his own right, though not in soils as his father before him, but in fruit and vegetables. He had studied agriculture at a local university and was considered an astute businessman as well as a fine farmer. Shaquim fell by the wayside somewhat, experimenting with alternative lifestyles. He had joined a commune at one point, lived in the streets as a beggar for a year, Become gainly employed and saved for a year only to blow it all in one night whilst impersonating a millionaire and even attempted local politics. Rochelle went on to study at the same university as her youngest brother Ladaryldt, continuing in to research. She was awarded a PhD and stayed on with the university as a computer. She was a fine mathematician. Latravis became a successful folk singer, winning various awards and selling many records. He had one hit, a song which he wrote whilst mourning for his father. It was called ‘The Ballad Of Ladaryldt and Lawonda’. In the key of ‘C’, the song told the story as follows:

1. Ladaryldt met his darling wife
At the local public bar.
He’d wooed her with his drinking skill –
She him with her push-up bra.
He’d told her stories of his life
And she’d taken quite a thrill.
Lawonda was her name he’d learnt
And surely she was strife.

9. That night they’d travelled to his home,
To the room beside his folks.
He’d stripped her down – his clothes gone –
Then advanced to pets and strokes
And finally she’d heard him moan.
This way was their offspring spawn’d.
Lawonda, through his blushing, learnt
– Ladaryldt’s seed was sown.

17. Just like Ladaryldt, morning came
To sounds of bickering.
Lawonda still lay upon the bed,
The weak light flickering
To tease her yet hung-over brain
Which pounded in her head.
Lawonda’s nether-regions burnt
But she knew he’d feel the same.

25. Ladaryldt and Lawonda would
Continue to step out.
Knowing that he’d stuffed her up,
Ladaryldt was devout
And doted on her, doing good
To make sure that she would sup
Upon the meals which he had burnt,
Her favourite – Canard du Jour.

33. Lawonda swelled around her girth,
Ladaryldt swelled with pride
As closer to them came their bairn.
In labour had she cried,
Swearing with mirth for all her worth,
Her nostrils always a’ flarin’
In the end her efforts had earned
Their firstborn daughter’s birth.

41. Whilst later looking for a town
Fit for them to reside
And raise their darling young one
Ladaryldt chanced to find
A town whose name he could not go ‘round
And Mossman was thus chosen
Lawonda agreed not to spurn –
She couldn’t turn Ladaryldt down.

49. North they headed to make their home –
Lawonda to raise their child;
Ladaryldt to find the Moss Man
Which he thought beguiled
The townsfolk there and leant its name
To the burg in which he planned
To raise his clan and slowly earn
A fortune from selling his loam.

57. Ladaryldt’s heart soon was shattered
To learn there was no Moss Man;
No man composed of nought but moss
By the great alluvial fan;
Whose great and fungal feet had pattered
Up and down the hills with force.
And so Ladaryldt’s view had turn’d
To his daughter, a fonder matter.

65. Lawonda’s joy in marriage brewed
Her love for Ladaryldt too.
Together in their marriage they
Determined to their dreams pursue
And to raise a large and noisy brood.
Ladaryldt found some dirt that paid
And every coin Ladaryldt earned
Soothed his sweet Lawonda’s mood.

73. And so the lived – no fight nor feud –
Ladaryldt tending on his wife
Lawonda ne’er without a child
Ensuring the parents’ busy life
Was full of joy, their dreams not skewed
And that their means were mild.
Through these trials the couple learned
That dreams, like ballads, must conclude.

And so ends this tale, the tale of Lawonda and Ladaryldt. The couple met, married, procreated, grew and then finally died. Their children were successful, if not in money then in happiness. They too would die later on.






















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