Lola Ridge

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

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,
And the moist air clung to our faces,
Warm and fragrant as the open mouth of a child
And we watched the out-flung sea
Rolling to the purple edge of the world,
Yet ever back upon itself…
As we…

Inadequate night…
And mooned white memory
Of a tropic sea…
How softly it comes up
Like an ungathered lily.

Submitted: Wednesday, April 21, 2010
Edited: Wednesday, February 08, 2012

Do you like this poem?
0 person liked.
0 person did not like.

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Comments about this poem (A Memory by Lola Ridge )

Enter the verification code :

There is no comment submitted by members..

Top Poems

  1. Phenomenal Woman
    Maya Angelou
  2. The Road Not Taken
    Robert Frost
  3. If You Forget Me
    Pablo Neruda
  4. Still I Rise
    Maya Angelou
  5. Dreams
    Langston Hughes
  6. Annabel Lee
    Edgar Allan Poe
  7. If
    Rudyard Kipling
  8. I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
    Maya Angelou
  9. Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
    Robert Frost
  10. Invictus
    William Ernest Henley

PoemHunter.com Updates

New Poems

  1. Massasauga Saga - Lincoln Park Zoo, Ima Ryma
  2. givesthewholegameaway, sEaN nOrTh
  3. Elegy of a crafted death, Shruti Goswami
  4. The Resting Mind!, Varanasi Ramabrahmam
  5. Morning Mist and Clouds, Ananta Madhavan
  6. All Equal, A.j. Binash
  7. Letting Go, Electric Lady
  8. नोँसोर फैफिनबाव, Bahadur Basumatary
  9. Love Letters on Leaves, Nalini Chaturvedi
  10. Halved, Raihana Abdul Jabbar

Poem of the Day

poet Edmund Spenser

Of this worlds theatre in which we stay,
My love like the spectator ydly sits
Beholding me that all the pageants play,
Disguysing diversly my troubled wits.
...... Read complete »

   
[Hata Bildir]