He can read anything, and we all would still fall in love with him.

This essay poem is not only utterly romantic and passionate but suits his voice, his British accent... beautiful literature piece that just suits the loving character. Also to his mischievous character when he said let's get into detail, hehe. Blemishes were funny and actually made total sense. Love the literary style with metaphors...

I love that he makes a point to look up and even behind him to fully engage with the audience. He seems to be able to make any work sound as personal to him as if he had written it himself. He could read directions on how to properly watch paint dry and I’d be completely enthralled 💜💜💜

I love him, and I love his voice so much. His velvety, smooth, calming voice never ceases to bring me to this state of peace, physically, mentally, and emotionally. I wish I could meet him, but it's highly unlikely, nearly impossible. No celebrity ever comes to my country, let alone Tom Hiddleston.

So amazingly read. He reads it not as if reading a poem, but as actually speaking to someone. Truly beautiful.

3:00-3:10 he's so adorable omg i love him

I think we can agree that this is one of the most beautiful things to have ever been written...

No one recites poetry like Tom.just remember beauty is Beauty and his words are like silk, smooth and soothing. Heaven on earth.

Literally started tearing up near the end.

Just beautiful. Beautifully written. Beautifully read.

words we wish he'd say to us or at least me lol

This is the most wonderful thing my ears have ever heard

Oh my God! Am I going to die? because hearing these words sounds like my last wish.

I love him....

I know it's not his letter but if you weren't in love with him before he began, you will be when he's finished. So charming and absolutely lovely, beautiful. And who hated this? LOL Just jealous of his perfect accent, voice and pronunciation 🙄

My heart flows with red of love and he have my heart

Excellent choice to read something so beautiful!

stunningly beautiful. I love the jealousy stuff as well... so true.

This man I can't get enough of him

I will be hearing this glorious voice in person in 3 weeks when I see him on Broadway in Betrayal....and I plan on waiting at the stage door after the play in hopes of getting my program autographed and a moment to tell him how much I appreciate his talent. #tomhiddleston

Beautiful words beautifully read

I hope you don’t mind me sharing one of my all time favorite meta poetic poems by Howard Dull that I discovered not that long ago from a 1970s anthology called “ Open Poetry” I’m not alone. Most of my poet friends also consider this one of their favorites and proves that when Poetry hits you, the most outrageously sinister nefarious ruler of empires relent and are transformed. Hope you enjoy Suibhne Gheilt 1 He has haunted me now for over a year that madman Suibhne Gheilt who in the middle of a battle looked up and saw something that made him leap up and fly over swords and trees - a poet gifted above all others - 11 How could a proud loud mouth who yelled KILL KILL KILL as he plowed done the enemy - heads rolling off of his sword - be so lifted up ( or fly up as those below saw it - wings beating) be so suddenly gifted with poetry and nest so high in Ireland’s tall trees? Is there a point where all paths cross? And why am I so drawn to him that all my questions seem shot in his direction? “And they ran into the woods and threw their lances and shot their arrows up through the branches” What parallels could I ever hope to find - my refusal to fight ( weaseling out on psychiatric grounds)? my leaving my country behind? my poetry? “and my wife wept on the path below. . . Oh memory is sweet but sweeter is the sorrel in the pool in the path below” I fly down every night to eat 111 Sweeney like the rest of us would have been better off if he had never anything to do with women. But the point of it lies hidden in a pool of milk in a pile of shit for you to see when a milkmaid smiles Sweeney like the rest of us flies down and when she pours the milk into the hole her heel made in the cowdung Sweeney like the rest of us kneels down and drinks and dies on the horn the cowherd hid in it. So before you have anything to do with women remember Sweeney the bird of Ireland lying on his back in the middle of that path in the moonlight. 1V And on my way home this morning ( my wife waiting) my shadow racing up the path ahead of me I saw something ( a black stone?) thrown at the back of its head ducked and spun around so fast I almost fell down - it was a bird flying up into a tree V No good could come out of this war out of what burns in the heart of our highly disciplined John Q. Killer as a whole village bursts into one flame - the villagers streaming like tears towards the forest cover his helicopter’s blades blow the leaves off and and the flame towards. . . as we sit in front of our bubbles watching our president ( whose bubbletalk no one can escape and he is a little bit mad -calling the reporters in for an interview while he’s sitting on the bubble having a bubble movement) and first lady climb into their big bubble bed an Lucy, born of their own bubbles, crawls in between - “ Mah daddy has so many troubles turning the world into a bubble and sick of crossfire - the cries of the women and children flying over his head - he stumbled down to the riverbank and found, the wreckage twisted around the tree behind, his skull. . . Noises, there are noises, noises that of themselves drive a man mad -NOISES! But last night the Stockhausen penetrated from the four sides of the auditorium, stripping each layer of feeling and thought until all that was left was something the size of a nut - so tiny, so hard, so impenetrable it was alone in the middle of an infinite space. . . -Howard Dull ~~ All love in isolation from Miami Beach, Al

Tom te amo

I would die thousands of time if my beau read this to me

I feel he was reading this to us, all his fans.

Moved to tears

Es tan hermoso ,amo su voz,amó sus gestos y movimientos... amo todo de él

Very much enjoyed your reading and poems that engaged me throughout. I’m also a poet specializing in Japanese forms: haiku, tanka, haibun, kyoka, senryu. I hope you don’t mind me sharing a tanka and my haiku, a tribute poem to Bashō’s frog with commentary by the late AHA founder and poet Jane Reichhold who considered my Basho haiku among her 10 favorite haiku poems of all time. What an honor! . Here’s the Bashō poem with Jane Reichhold’s insightful commentary: Bashō’s frog four hundred years of ripples At first the idea of picking only 10 of my favorite haiku seemed a rather daunting task. How could I review all the haiku I have read in my life and decide that there were only 10 that were outstanding? Then realized I was already getting a steady stream of excellent haiku day by day through the AHA forum. The puns and write-offs based on Basho's most famous haiku are so numerous I would have said that nothing new could be said with this method, but here Al Fogel proved me wrong. Perhaps part of my delight in this haiku lies in the fact that I agree with him. Here he is saying one thing about realism-ripples are on a pond after a frog jumps in, but because it refers back to Basho and his famous haiku, he is also saying something about the haiku and authors who have followed him. We, and our work, are just ripples while Basho holds the honor of inventing the idea of the sound of a frog leaping is the sound of water As haiku spreads around the world, making ripples in more and larger ponds, its ripples are wider-including us all. But his last word reminds us that we are ripples and our lives are ephemeral. It will be the frogs that will remain. ~~ And my tanka: returning home from a Jackson Pollock exhibition I smear my face with paint and turn into art ~~ -All love in isolation from Miami Beach, Florida, Al

oh my god

*le sigh*

He’s so cute

WAN 💏👫👭👑

Wow.

Wonderful 💕 - Whom may it concern 🤔 ?