Breakfast with a Man Who Knows Literature

My family let me sleep in this morning.  And I needed that.  I was under my covers last night by 7pm and I slept until two hours ago.  The hubby made me some lemon water and delivered it to me in bed. Then Thing 1 and 2 "made" me coffee and knocked on the bedroom door with, "Mommy, special delivery!".

After I made my way to the kitchen, I found scrambled eggs just like I like them and I sat down to eat across from a man who knows literature like I do.  And we got to talking and thinking and sharing.  It all culminated with some Dylan Thomas and some of the undying optimism that makes my world go 'round.

He said to me, "I'm glad you got 12 hours of sleep.  You needed it.  Sometimes when things end, it can get a little messy.  Any experience that involves people...".

So enjoy some Dylan Thomas.  Read it and own it.  And for the love of all that is good in this world, make good choices tonight.  

Happy Saturday.

Dylan Thomas, 1914 - 1953

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.