"Lady Cavendish, I am delighted to be included at your tea today. I offer apologies to all before I read this selection for I may trouble you with thought upon such work. Poetry rises from the heart and so my heart stands ready to listen to the words offered here in this gentle company. I learned of poetry at the Harper's Hall at my father's house. I read of it as well and, properly, in Welsh." He followed this with a grin as his eyes gazed upon Bridget. Would she suspect?
'The first line to make my heart beat faster was called "Advice to the young man before he sets out in search of love"'. When I had read the whole of it, I determined that the eager search to fulfill my youthful desire and the path I should follow were less alike than I had imagined. The poet, Master Prichard of the Established Church, admonished me to first learn to praise God in hard work and in respect for the King and authority. You might understand how this confused a young boy seeking love. Moderation was not an inclination at that time and much less a moral principle. However, I found that if poetry is clever and true, it stays with you and changes you."
Here Owen paused the briefest moment and held Bridget with his eyes. "I found poetry in Wales. I travelled the world to India and back and still found it waiting for me. I believe dearly that love waits in much the same place ... in my heart."
His heart beat once, twice, then he continued, "So let me share with you this poetry selected by our gracious hostess, let us see if it appeals to your heart and is clever and true."
He would go on with the written verse, breathing as the line dictated a pause, rolling the words with a Welsh baritone voice.
Last edited by Owen Langland on Thu Oct 09, 2008 12:41 am, edited 1 time in total.