A review by godotwillseeyounow
A Child's Christmas in Wales by Dylan Thomas

slow-paced

4.75

"[Our snow] came shawling out of the ground and swam and drifted out of the arms and hands and bodies of the trees; snow grew overnight on the roofs of the houses like a pure and grandfather moss, minutely ivied the walls and settled on the postman, opening the gate, like a dumb, numb thunder-storm of white, torn Christmas cards.” 

Right from the first few pages I knew I would want to read this little old book all over again. God, to read it by a roaring fire, snuggled under blankets, sheltered from the snowy cold outside the window; maybe even with some faint caroling heard off in the distance; maybe even lost in a small town somewhere in Wales.

And I'm a little in awe, of his use of language, of the adjectives, the alliterations, the verbs as descriptors, his whimsy. I definitely want to read more Dylan Thomas again.