Ms. Peel
An idea for a cable show.
by
John Presco
Copyright 2019
Ms. Peel is an international fashion hit woman, and stolen art detective who dresses horses and walks the runway for the worlds hottest fashion designers, and shops at the most chic shops. She has an appartment in New York, Paris, London, Amsterdam, Moscow, and a castle in the Czech Republic that was left to her by her fiancé who was murdered by a cartel of Art Thieves. Here Ms. Peel adds to Karl von Seinsheim’s world famous collection of art, sculpture, and rare books. Some nights she falls into dark moods and plays sonatas she composed to Karl who is the love of her life. These moods end with tears, and quiet sobbing in their great bed in the turret of their beloved castle.
When in New York she plays to Karl in her favorite restaurant. Her Blue Monday sessions draw a special crowd from all over Europe and Asia. Sometimes she slips into the lost world of forsaken souls who head back to their lairs when the morning sky turns the color of blue ink. It was here that she learned killing someone took her mind off Karl.
In the morning it is off to Amsterdam to dress her beloved Frisian horses that Karl bought for her. She has a lover who lives on board a houseboat on the canal next to the Opera House. It was Andrew who got her into marshal arts. Ms. Peel has girlfriends who are fashion models. They go on shopping sprees together. Emilia picks up the tab.
Emelia Peel is the granddaughter of Emma Peel the famous British Agent. When I was seventeen I fell in love with Diana Rigg. She was my female companion who kept me company after Marilyn and I broke up. The opening credits and sight of Peel in her jumpsuit, reassured me there would be more sexual contact in my life. I loved Diana’s derriere, her cute dimples, her apple cheeks. Her breasts were a perfect size. My heart broke when she flirted. She was awfully cute, and physically playful. Not since The Avengers has television allowed the male to objectify a female. She was a exotic foreigner that could defend herself, and kick-ass!
Most of us will not become international travelers, or get backstage at a fashion show. I do not see much of a plot. I see this show as a way of Surfing with the New Jet Set. There will be simulated dining and shopping experiences. Emelia’s Euro-Friends stop by for a party.
Then there is The Red Square Poetry Jam that never fails to get raided by The New Thought Police who are hell bent on stamping out all traces of the Bohemian lifestyle from Russia. Democratic leaders believe NATO is in trouble, and is losing support from Americans – who know mothing about European Culture! Ms. Peel is an Ambassador who brings the RSPJ to Nebraska where she challenges Garth Brooks to a Country Western Song writing contest. She ends up buying a little farm outside Grand Island Nebraska. When she flies in Pussy Riot, a famous evangelical minister pickets their performance. Need I say Americans are Horse Lovers, and……”Love conquers all!”
I think Lara Roozemond is perfect for the part of Ms. Peel. She has experience in all these areas. I think she could help write and produce this show. Need I say she would look great in a cowboy hat. She has the cleft chin, the profile, and the sideways glance.
I just heard from Marilyn the President of Inspirational Sounds Gospel Choir that is going to sing at the Garth Brook show. M is feeling blue, and will not be there. She needs to be in Bandon, by the sea communing with all that she has found solace in, in this great wide world. I wish her well. We have watched Lara’s Muse videos together. M plays piano. We can tell all young women; to be able to compose a poem and a piano piece, puts you fully on the stage of life. We wish Lara well.
To my beloved Emilia Lara Peel, who turned to look at me.
Love is forever!
Karl
Lara’s Glance
By
Karl von Seinsheim
More exciting then the sight
Of my dapple mare
running wild
in the spring grassy rain
near the crags of Londonderry
was the sight of my Lara
looking sideways at me
Like the warmth rising
from within my woolen coat
soaked through in a sudden
shower
are my feelings rising
for this Irish Lass
Who through the veil
of other lifetimes
ignored the patient attention
of her handsome suitors
Lining up to behold her
they showed me their profiles
like greyhounds
sensing someone outside
the hunt;
had caught her fancy
Their young lust made more noble
In the presence of her perfection
Lara’s animation
had cast a spell over our town
This shiny bright being
conducted this most ancient play
with eyes that danced and sparkled
Like beams of light
caught on a breaking wave
Or gems captured
in a brook that trickle
out of a dark shaded wood
There was a silver sheen
under her wide-set eyes
Her long lashes
were like banners
waving
Sending errant knights
on foreign crusades
For there could only be
one champion of her heart
Sensing my eyes
were upon her,
More then weighing her beauty
but her young womanly soul
She bid her long tapered arms
to dance
As playful as swans
who mate for life
She teased us all
with her promise
that one day
one of us would have her
But until that vow
little girls admired
the fine curls in her
dark brown hair
that framed
her joyful smile
that flirted with everything
that beat blood through
an Irish heart.
She was our drummer
our flute
and the setting sun that
Chose to break thru
The heavy ceiling
of our darkest clouds
no gray pall
Nor sorrow
ever cast a shadow
on our Lara
Some claim she
gave them a wondrous wink
But when she
turned that day
to look fully at me
There was no smile on her lips
no movement of her arms
that had fallen to her side
to allow me to see
I was the one
And never again would
my Lovely Lara
look sideways at me
Play both videos at the same time. Looking at beautiful horses and people is what European People are all about – add our music!
Rosamond Press 