It is true. I'm sorry you've had to hear about it this way...I should be shouting it off the roof tops. He's Welsh, for starters, with wildly curly hair, a perfectly pudgy nose and a roly-poly face most beguiling. However, it wasn't his good looks that won me so completely. Only the finest poetic mind can tempt me to such forbidden distractions. I happen to think my rotund welsh cavalier is a literary genius.
I've been thinking about Dylan Thomas almost every day for the ummm...well, since yesterday. However, it isn't the continuity but the intensity of my feelings that matter. I play his words over and over in my mind and I am aflame.
My husband is all forgiveness and patience and maybe a little amused...no, that is not true, he thinks I'm a nut and when I read him a few stanza he glazes over in boredom. No matter, I am a shameless nut.
this is my absolute favorite and Anthony Hopkin's recital almost makes me cry every time I watch it. Before you listen, take heed, you may lose your heart to another...but no matter...you wouldn't be the first.