Lola Ridge

(December 12, 1873- May 19, 1941 / Dublin)

Lola Ridge Poems

81. Wall Street At Night 2/8/2012
82. Wild Duck 2/8/2012
83. Wind Rising In The Alleys 2/8/2012
84. Windows 2/8/2012
Best Poem of Lola Ridge

The Dream

I have a dream
to fill the golden sheath
of a remembered day....
(Air
heavy and massed and blue
as the vapor of opium...
domes
fired in sulphurous mist...
sea
quiescent as a gray seal...
and the emerging sun
spurting up gold
over Sydney, smoke-pale, rising out of the bay....)
But the day is an up-turned cup
and its sun a junk of red iron
guttering in sluggish-green water--
where shall I pour my dream?

Read the full of The Dream

A Memory

I remember
The crackle of the palm trees
Over the mooned white roofs of the town…
The shining town…
And the tender fumbling of the surf
On the sulphur-yellow beaches
As we sat… a little apart… in the close-pressing night.

The moon hung above us like a golden mango,

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