Llansteffan’s quiet beauty lingers in my mind, but it was in Laugharne where I felt the ghosts of poetry stirring.
Sitting in Dylan Thomas’ Boat House, we sipped our tea while the estuary murmured below, the same tide that must have carried his thoughts out into the world.
His writing shed, perched above the water, stood frozen in time - through its window, we glimpsed the scattered pages and well-worn chair, as if he'd just stepped away for a moment.
Wandering through the nearby cemetery, we found his gravestone, simple yet profound, resting beneath the weight of sky and history.
After a long walk, we came to the castle.
Its ruins weathered but unwavering, became our retreat; we spread out our picnic and let the day unfold in its shadow, savoring the quiet, the lingering words, and the presence of a place that seems to breathe poetry.
♥