Posted by: Poetry Palace | May 30, 2016

I loved you first by Christina Rossetti

Christina Rossetti

Posted by: Poetry Palace | May 30, 2016

N°5 L’EAU: the film – CHANEL

 

Posted by: Poetry Palace | May 30, 2016

Four Winds by Sara Teasdale

4 Winds

Posted by: Poetry Palace | May 30, 2016

How do I love thee? by Elizabeth Barrett Browning

Flower Basket

AA How Do I Love

Posted by: Poetry Palace | May 10, 2016

The Immeasurable by Alvin Conway

The Immeasurable Poem black

Roses B

Posted by: Poetry Palace | September 19, 2015

Alone by Sara Teasdale

Posted by: Poetry Palace | June 13, 2015

All Our Days of Splendor by Alvin Conway

Summary: Paris 1926: Les Années folles as the French called it, “The Crazy Years.” It was the Roaring Twenties. It was the dawn of the Age of Modernism, feminism, the flappers, the birth of cinema; it was the decade of the automobile and radio. It was the reckless years of wealth and exuberance, where stock markets toyed with ideas of fanaticism, and where legends lived, loved, and died. Paris France was at the heart of a new cultural revolution that was reshaping and changing the world. Thomas E. McCann came to Paris to change his life. His life ended up changing everyone around him. There were parties, class privileges, there were flowing rivers of champagne, there was extravagant wealth, and everyone lived and loved like no one thought the wild celebrations of this Golden decade would ever come to an end.

“This book is a sheer delight. Exquisite, poetic, masterfully crafted – this is simply one of the most beautiful love stories ever written.” –The Poetry Palace

All Our Days of Splendor a new novel by Alvin Conway – Where to purchase: lulu

Posted by: Poetry Palace | June 13, 2015

Rose by Flora Clare Redding

 

Posted by: Poetry Palace | May 25, 2015

For a Million by Alphaville

Rose Banner 3

Posted by: Poetry Palace | March 20, 2015

Sea-Fever by John Masefield

Ship

I must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,
And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by,
And the wheel’s kick and the wind’s song and the white sail’s shaking,
And a grey mist on the sea’s face, and a grey dawn breaking.

I must go down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide
Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied;
And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying,
And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea-gulls crying.

I must go down to the seas again, to the vagrant gypsy life,
To the gull’s way and the whale’s way, where the wind’s like a whetted knife;
And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover,
And quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick’s over

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