|The prompt this week: a love note.|
I was very young and he wasn't famous yet.
As we sat at a café in Paris, he asked the waiter for a
scrap of paper, wrote these lines from Shakespeare's Sonnet #29
(and got them mostly right), then pressed the paper into my hand.
Hadn't thought about him for ages, but I've kept his note for 45 years!
[To see more love notes, visit Bella's meme.]