Palais Royale
The night cold as nuggets, dark as acorn, against your chest; snow falling like abandoned echoes releasing energy into the spyglass, umbrella moon. A solitary figure trapping hapless sparrows not in a net but with his footprints doubling as dungeons against the sun - here & there rusting eavestroughs ballooning into avenging shadows their harpsichord voices spun on dreams Dick Whittington once used to buy a cat. And once Tom Thumb Upstaged Peter Pan by appearing under a petunia but this is not likely to happen soon. The dawn, forlorn & grey, is a court muffin's handkerchief waved at a sailor far out at sea.
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"The night cold as nuggets, dark as acorn,..."
Exploring the themes of classic, Paul Cameron Brown delivers a powerful performance in "Palais Royale"... ### Why We Love This Line At Linespedia, we believe that poetry is the ultimate sanctuary for the soul...