Essential Home Accents

Essential Home Accents by Home Fashion Express

Essential Home Accents

 

Thanks for visiting our web store. Shop and buy top sellers in gifts, collectibles, home, garden and seasonal decor. Give your home a  makeover indoors and out. Search or browse through our listings and discover the awesome selection of new products. We have something for everyone on your shopping list, him, her, or the one who has it all.

 

                          

skip to content

Gift Ideas

Finding the right gift idea for that special person or event can be quite a challenge. How do you decide what is the most appropriate gift to show how much you care?

Our Gift Ideas section provides you with easy to read articles chock full of great gift ideas that will help you decide what's best. We add new articles on gift ideas almost daily. So, make sure you bookmark this page so you can return whenever you need help with your gift giving events!


Flood of Color

Floods bring a mosaic of color to the rice fields of Y Ty, Vietnam. The wet season typically lasts from May to June in the mountainous village.

This photo was submitted to Your Shot, our storytelling community where members can take part in photo assignments, get expert feedback, be published, and more. Join now >>



Fight Pennywise in Spooky IT 8-Bit Video Game

IT gets an official 8-bit video game that lets you battle killer clown Pennywise in the sewers of Derry.


Kingsman 2 Preview Reveals Shocking Truth Behind Total Eclipse

20th Century Fox has put together the greatest movie promo ever for Kingsman: The Golden Circle, which ties directly into Monday's total eclipse.


Adam Driver Teases Kylo Ren's Unexpected Fate in Star Wars 8

Adam Driver reveals that he hopes the fate of Kylo Ren will be unexpected when they get to see Star Wars: The Last Jedi.


Poem of the Day: Essay on Craft

Because the butterfly’s yellow wing
flickering in black mud
was a word
stranded by its language.
Because no one else
was coming — & I ran
out of reasons.
So I gathered fistfuls
of  ash, dark as ink,
hammered them
into marrow, into
a skull thick
enough to keep
the gentle curse
of  dreams. Yes, I aimed
for mercy — 
but came only close
as building a cage
around the heart. Shutters
over the eyes. Yes,
I gave it hands
despite knowing
that to stretch that clay slab
into five blades of light,
I would go
too far. Because I, too,
needed a place
to hold me. So I dipped
my fingers back
into the fire, pried open
the lower face
until the wound widened
into a throat,
until every leaf shook silver
with that god
-awful scream
& I was done.
& it was human.

Source: Poetry July/August 2017

Ocean Vuong

Biography
More poems by this author


123 Victory (Remix) [feat. Pharrell Williams] - Single - Kirk Franklin

123 Victory (Remix) [feat. Pharrell Williams] - Single by Kirk Franklin


A Walk on the Wild Side

Ye Ye, a 16-year-old giant panda, lounges in a wild enclosure at a conservation center in China’s Wolong Nature Reserve. China has been creating reserves to restore and protect disappearing panda habitat and is now introducing captive-bred pandas into the wild.

See more pictures from the August 2016 feature story "Pandas Get to Know Their Wild Side."



Conjuring Movie Universe Passes $1B at Worldwide Box Office

The hit spin-off Annabelle: Creation has helped push the blockbuster Conjuring franchise past $1 billion worldwide.


Poem of the Day: Not Pastoral Enough

It is the sense, it is the sense, controls,
Landing every poem like a fish.
Unhuman forms must not assert their roles.
 
Glittering scales require the deadly tolls
Of net and knife. Scales fall to relish.
It is the sense, it is the sense, controls.
 
Yet languages are apt to miss on souls
If reason only guts them. Applying the wish,
Unhuman forms must not assert their roles,
 
Ignores the fact that poems have two poles
That must be opposite. Hard then to finish
It is the sense, it is the sense, controls,
 
Without a sense of lining up for doles
From other kitchens that give us the garnish:
Unhuman forms must not assert their roles.
 
And this (forgive me) is like carrying coals
To Sheffield. Irrelevance betrays a formal anguish.
It is the sense, it is the sense, controls,
“Unhuman forms must not assert their roles”.

Veronica Forrest-Thomson, "Not Pastoral Enough" from Collected Poems and Translations. Copyright © 1971 by Veronica Forrest-Thomson.  Reprinted by permission of Allardyce, Barnett, Publishers.

Source: Collected Poems(Shearsman Books, 2008)

Veronica Forrest-Thomson

Biography
More poems by this author


Poem of the Day: Mid-August at Sourdough Mountain Lookout

Down valley a smoke haze
Three days heat, after five days rain   
Pitch glows on the fir-cones
Across rocks and meadows
Swarms of new flies.

I cannot remember things I once read   
A few friends, but they are in cities.   
Drinking cold snow-water from a tin cup   
Looking down for miles
Through high still air.

Gary Snyder, “Mid-August at Sourdough Mountain Lookout” from Riprap and Cold Mountain Poems. Copyright © 2003 by Gary Snyder. Reprinted by permission of Counterpoint Press.

Source: No Nature: New and Selected Poems(1992)

Gary Snyder

Biography
More poems by this author


Blonde - Frank Ocean

Blonde by Frank Ocean


Poem of the Day: August 12 in the Nebraska Sand Hills Watching the Perseids Meteor Shower

In the middle of rolling grasslands, away from lights,
a moonless night untethers its wild polka-dots,
the formations we can name competing for attention
in a twinkling and crowded sky-bowl.

Out from the corners, our eyes detect a maverick meteor,
a transient streak, and lying back toward midnight
on the heft of our car hood, all conversation blunted,
we were at once unnerved and somehow restored.

Out here, a furrow of spring-fed river threads
through ranches in the tens of thousands of acres.
Like cattle, we are powerless, by instinct can see
why early people trembled and deliberated the heavens.

Off in the distance those cattle make themselves known,
a bird song moves singular across the horizon.
Not yet 2:00, and bits of comet dust, the Perseids,
startle and skim the atmosphere like skipping stones.

In the leaden dark, we are utterly alone. As I rub the ridges
on the back of your hand, our love for all things warm
and pulsing crescendos toward dawn: this timeless awe,
your breath floating with mine upward into the stars.
 

Twyla Hansen, "August 12 in the Nebraska Sand Hills Watching the Perseids Meteor Shower" from Dirt Songs: A Plains Duet. Copyright © 2011 by Twyla Hansen.  Reprinted by permission of Backwaters Press.

Source: Dirt Songs: A Plains Duet(2011)

Twyla Hansen

Biography
More poems by this author


City of Sun Showers

Even in a rainstorm, Paris lives up to its nickname of the City of Light, as sun streaks through storm clouds over the city in this image by Your Shot photographer Raffaele Tuzio.

This photo was submitted to Your Shot, our storytelling community where members can take part in photo assignments, get expert feedback, be published, and more. Join now >>



Into You (3LAU Remix) - Single - Ariana Grande

Into You (3LAU Remix) - Single by Ariana Grande


Within hours of being fired, Bannon back leading Breitbart


Poem of the Day: Radio

Don’t hurt the radio for
Against all
Solid testimony machines
Have feelings
Too

Brush past it lightly
With a fine regard
For allowing its molecules
To remain 100% intact

Machines can think like Wittgenstein
And the radio’s a machine
Thinking softly to itself
Of the Midnight Flower
As her tawny parts unfold

In slow motion the boat
Rocks on the ocean
As her tawny parts unfold

The radio does something mental
To itself singingly
As her tawny parts unfold
Inside its wires
And steal away its heart

Two minutes after eleven
The color dream communicates itself
The ink falls on the paper as if magically
The scalp falls away
A pain is felt
Deep in the radio

I take out my larynx and put it on the blue chair
And do my dance for the radio
It’s my dance in which I kneel in front of the radio
And while remaining motionless elsewise
Force my eyeballs to come as close together as possible
While uttering a horrible and foreign word
Which I cannot repeat to you without now removing my larynx
And placing it on the blue chair

The blue chair isn’t here
So I can’t do that trick at the present time

The radio is thinking a few licks of its own
Pianistic thoughts attuned to tomorrow’s grammar
Beautiful spas of seltzery coition
Plucked notes like sandpaper attacked by Woody Woodpecker

The radio says Edwardian farmers from Minnesota march on the Mafia
Armed with millions of radioactive poker chips

The radio fears foul play
It turns impersonal
A piggy bank was smashed
A victim was found naked
Radio how can you tell me this
In such a chipper tone
Your structure of voices is a friend
The best kind
The kind one can turn on or off
Whenever one wants to
But that is wrong I know
For you will intensely to continue
And in a deeper way
You do

Hours go by
And I watch you
As you diligently apply
A series of audible frequencies
To tiny receptors
Located inside my cranium
Resulting in much pleasure for someone
Who looks like me
Although he is seated about two inches to my left
And the both of us
Are listening to your every word
With a weird misapprehension
It’s the last of the tenth
And Harmon Killebrew is up
With a man aboard

He blasts a game-winning home run
The 559th of his career
But no one cares
Because the broadcast is studio-monitored for taping
To be replayed in 212 years

Heaven must be like this, radio
To not care about anything
Because it’s all being taped for replay much later

Heaven must be like this
For as her tawny parts unfold
The small lights swim roseate
As if of sepals were the tarp made
As it is invisibly unrolled
And sundown gasps its old Ray Charles 45 of Georgia
Only through your voice

Tom Clark, “Radio” from Light and Shade: New and Selected Poems. Copyright � 2006 by Tom Clark. Used with the permission of Coffee House Press, www.coffeehousepress.org.

Source: Sleepwalker(1992)

Tom Clark

Biography
More poems by this author


Hidden Gem

Forged by the wear of water rushing over rocks, Olo Canyon in Arizona is concealed inside the Grand Canyon. Its alluring landscape includes natural springs and rocks shaped like cathedral amphitheaters.

See more pictures from the September 2016 story "Are We Losing the Grand Canyon?"



Still Falling For You (From "Bridget Jones's Baby" Original Motion Picture Soundtrack) - Single - Ellie Goulding

Still Falling For You (From "Bridget Jones's Baby" Original Motion Picture Soundtrack) - Single by Ellie Goulding


A Flash in the Distance

Flashes of lightning illuminate the night sky above Lake Ontario, as seen from an overlook in Lyndonville, New York—located about an hour from the Canadian border at Niagara Falls.

This photo was submitted to Your Shot, our storytelling community where members can take part in photo assignments, get expert feedback, be published, and more. Join now >>



Losing My Religion - Kirk Franklin

Losing My Religion by Kirk Franklin


Leah Remini Bashes Tom Cruise in Continuing War Against Scientology

Leah Remini has slammed Tom Cruise as Diabolical and not a good person as she continues to speak against the Church of Scientology.


Poem of the Day: The Death of Elvis

This lip, too, used to curl a little easier,
and we, all of us, must enter our Vegas years.

Blessed the pacemakers, blessed the painkillers,
blessed our famed quiffs grown flyaway, grown thin,

the gray starting to sprout under the dye.
So much to hide beneath the spit and mascara.

So much to powder puff and trim. Nose hairs,
for instance, and sideburns, the skin seasick

as we’re made to play dress-up one final time.
A daughter’s bracelet slipped over a wrist,

and, for the ring finger, a lightning bolt ring.
How far we venture from a love of peanut butter

and Wonder Bread, how far from a Stutz Bearcat
and Kahlil Gibran. From codeine, meperidine,

diazepam, the room with the teddy bears
and the empty syringe. How far

from the last book we dived into to learn
about sexual positions and astrological signs.

And far, too, from the myth of our baritones
coming alive in Tupelo, of how we could turn on

and off the rain. “That’s the way the mop flops,”
I think he’d say, as they lay him out flat

under the chandelier, then in the limousine.
“That’s the way the mop flops,” as five men

enter his mausoleum with water, cement,
and a wheelbarrow full of sand,

the instruments set down, the stage lights dimmed,
“Thank you very much! Goodnight, Graceland.”



Source: Poetry September 2015

Ciaran Berry

Biography
More poems by this author


Source: Kelly might not be done culling White House staff

A Breitbart White House reporter tweeted that former White House chief strategist Steve Bannon has returned to his role as Executive Chairman of Breitbart News and chaired an editorial meeting.


Poem of the Day: Please, Not That Again

How burdensome they seemed, wartime
oldies that could drive our parents teary:
 
“I’ll Be Seeing You,” with its hint
of being swept off in a global riptide;
 
or the shaky follow-up of “I’ll Be Home
for Christmas,” followed by a shakier
 
“Don’t Sit Under the Apple Tree
(with Anyone Else But Me),” “Comin’
 
in on a Wing and a Prayer,” or “Ac-
Cent-Tchu-Are the Positive.” We suffered
 
them on the old cathedral radio, crooned
by Crosby and Sinatra, had to watch them
 
strangled on The Lawrence Welk Show
or laced with Como’s heavy dose
 
of sedative. Dad told us, “Straighten Up
and Fly Right.” Mom hummed, “Keep
 
the Home Fires Burning”—till our music
cut the cord. Brash and free of corn,
 
it hailed rock ‘n’ roll, caught Maybellene
at the top of the hill, moaned “m’ baby-doll,
 
m’ baby-doll, m’ baby-doll.” We played it
loud and often, but they never understood.
 

William Trowbridge, "Please, Not That Again" from Vanishing Point.  Copyright © 2017 by William Trowbridge.  Reprinted by permission of Red Hen Press.

Source: Vanishing Point(Red Hen Press, 2017)

William Trowbridge

Biography
More poems by this author


'#WAR': Breitbart set to take on Trump White House


Golden Hills

Your Shot photographer Hannah Overeem captured this shot of her dog, Badger, an Australian cattle dog, in Chino Hills, California. She writes that the contrast of the golden field and blue-and-white sky give this image a “surreal” look.

This photo was submitted to Your Shot, our storytelling community where members can take part in photo assignments, get expert feedback, be published, and more. Join now >>



Different Now - Single - Fetty Wap

Different Now - Single by Fetty Wap


Brave Enough - Lindsey Stirling

Brave Enough by Lindsey Stirling


Poem of the Day: Finding My Mother

Near dusk I find her in a newly mown field, lying still
and face down in the coarse stubble. Her arms
 
are splayed out on either side of her body, palms open
and turned upward like two lilies, the slender fingers
 
gently curling, as if holding onto something. Her legs
are drawn up underneath her, as if she fell asleep there
 
on her knees, perhaps while praying, perhaps intoxicated
by the sweet liquid odor of sheared grass.
 
Her small ankles, white and unscarred, are crossed
one on top of the other, as if arranged so in ritual fashion.
 
Her feet are bare. I cannot see her face, turned
toward the ground as it is,
 
but her long black hair is lovelier than I remember it,
spilling across her back and down onto the felled stalks
 
like a pour of glossy tar. Her flesh is smooth
and cool, slightly resistant to my touch.
 
I begin to look around me for something with which
to carry her back—carry her back, I hear myself say,
 
as if the words spoken aloud, even in a dream,
will somehow make it possible.
 
I am alone in a field, at dusk, the light leaving
the way it has to, leaking away the way it has to
 
behind a ridge of swiftly blackening hills. I lie down
on the ground beside my mother under falling darkness
 
and draw my coat over our bodies. We sleep there like that.

 

Mari L’Esperance, "Finding My Mother" from The Darkened Temple.  Copyright © 2008 by the Board of Regents of the University of Nebraska.  Reprinted by permission of University of Nebraska Press.

Source: The Darkened Temple(University of Nebraska Press, 2008)

Mari L'Esperance

Biography
More poems by this author


Justice League to Kill Off a Major Character, Is It Batman?

A new rumor claims director Joss Whedon has decided to kill off a key player in his revamped Justice League movie?


Behind the Curtain

Circus performers in Hanoi, Vietnam, prepare for the show minutes before it gets under way. Nguyen Thi Thu Hiep, shown here stretching, is a contortionist. For extra money, she also performs at private parties and social events.

See more pictures from the September 2016 story "A Life at the Circus: Going Behind the Curtain in Vietnam."



Poem of the Day: Dulce et Decorum Est

Bent double, like old beggars under sacks,
Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge,
Till on the haunting flares we turned our backs,
And towards our distant rest began to trudge.
Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots,
But limped on, blood-shod. All went lame; all blind;
Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots
Of gas-shells dropping softly behind.

Gas! GAS! Quick, boys!—An ecstasy of fumbling
Fitting the clumsy helmets just in time,
But someone still was yelling out and stumbling
And flound’ring like a man in fire or lime.—
Dim through the misty panes and thick green light,
As under a green sea, I saw him drowning.

In all my dreams before my helpless sight,
He plunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning.

If in some smothering dreams, you too could pace
Behind the wagon that we flung him in,
And watch the white eyes writhing in his face,
His hanging face, like a devil’s sick of sin;
If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood
Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs,
Obscene as cancer, bitter as the cud
Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues,—
My friend, you would not tell with such high zest
To children ardent for some desperate glory,
The old Lie: Dulce et decorum est
Pro patria mori.



Source: Poems(Viking Press, 1921)

Wilfred Owen

Biography
More poems by this author


Chuck E. Cheese Says Goodbye to Legendary Animatronic Band

Chuck E. Cheese restaurants have decided to fire their animatronic house band after decades of service.


Superbad Was the First Movie to Use This Raunchy Curse Word

Seth Rogen has revealed a few loosely guarded secrets about his iconic comedy Superbad on its 10th Anniversary.


Different Now - Single - Fetty Wap

Different Now - Single by Fetty Wap


10 Minute - Butt Workout - EP - Power Music Workout

10 Minute - Butt Workout - EP by Power Music Workout


Billy Returns in New Jigsaw Poster and Saw 8 TV Spot

A dangerous new game begins as the legacy continues in the latest Saw sequel Jigsaw.


'You Dropped Something!'

Your Shot photographer Suyash Mehta gained a souvenir from a passing eagle in Satara, India: a long feather. India is home to nearly two dozen eagle species.

This photo was submitted to Your Shot, our storytelling community where members can take part in photo assignments, get expert feedback, be published, and more. Join now >>



Into You (Workout Mix) - Single - Power Music Workout

Into You (Workout Mix) - Single by Power Music Workout


Sandy Oasis

Anguilla, a British territory in the Caribbean, is a nation of tranquility, but Sandy Island takes it to another level. This speck of sand in the bright blue waters is constantly reshaped by the ocean and weather, and visitors to the cay are encouraged to make reservations. Your Shot photographer Matthew Wade captured this shot using a drone.

This photo was submitted to Your Shot, our storytelling community where members can take part in photo assignments, get expert feedback, be published, and more. Join now >>



Trump's ex-stategist tells Weekly Standard that right-wing, populist leadership he championed is at an end

After his ouster from the West Wing on Friday, ex-White House chief strategist Steve Bannon declared the Trump presidency that his brand of populist, right-wing conservatives helped make a reality is "over."


How Aquaman Shoots Its Underwater Scenes

Willem Dafoe breaks down the process of shooting the underwater scenes in director James Wan's highly-anticipated Aquaman.


Poem of the Day: Brian Age Seven

Grateful for their tour
of the pharmacy,
the first-grade class
has drawn these pictures,
each self-portrait taped
to the window-glass,
faces wide to the street,
round and available,
with parallel lines for hair.

I like this one best: Brian,
whose attenuated name
fills a quarter of the frame,
stretched beside impossible
legs descending from the ball
of his torso, two long arms
springing from that same
central sphere. He breathes here,

on his page. It isn’t craft
that makes this figure come alive;
Brian draws just balls and lines,
in wobbly crayon strokes.
Why do some marks
seem to thrill with life,
possess a portion
of the nervous energy
in their maker’s hand?

That big curve of a smile
reaches nearly to the rim
of his face; he holds
a towering ice cream,
brown spheres teetering
on their cone,
a soda fountain gift
half the length of him
—as if it were the flag

of his own country held high
by the unadorned black line
of his arm. Such naked support
for so much delight! Artless boy,
he’s found a system of beauty:
he shows us pleasure
and what pleasure resists.
The ice cream is delicious.
He’s frail beside his relentless standard.

“Brian Age Seven” from Source by Mark Doty. Copyright © 2001 by Mark Doty. Used by permission of HarperCollins Publishers.

Source: Source(HarperCollins, 2001)

Mark Doty

Biography
More poems by this author


CNN anchor lists Trump's latest controversies in 3 minutes

CNN's Brooke Baldwin takes a look at President Trump's chaotic past four weeks.


Neon Nights

With raindrops no longer falling, this street in Beijing, China, hums back to life under the glow of neon signs. Your Shot photographer Caue Ferraz took this photo in the neighborhood around Jingshan Park, a 57-acre green space with views into the Forbidden City.

This photo was submitted to Your Shot, our storytelling community where members can take part in photo assignments, get expert feedback, be published, and more. Join now >>



Search
Search by Price
Exclusive Offers

Exclusive Offers

Sign up to receive exclusive promotions and discounts from our store.
Gift Cards
Express Order

Express Order

UA-33707624-1