File:Queen St, Brisbane, c 1910.jpg

Sat 10 Sept 1927

"Queen-street, Brisbane.

I hold the dreams of women ... Scents and furs And dainty high-heeled shoes my silence stirs; And I who listen wonder hearts can ache With overmuch desire for my sake. Their mouths are sweeter than a crushed red rose That blossoms in a secret garden-close; The adoration of their eyes to me Is tragic with a tragic ecstasy - I am the street of baubles which, for gold, Their hands may gather and their souls may hold. Have I not jewels bleeding limpid light - Onyx and jade, beryl and chrysolite; Diamonds that hold in their imprisoned souls The flames that burn in irised aureoles! Pearls with the tints of rose them seem to mesh When laid against a Brisbane beauty's flesh; Opals, sun-shot, and emeralds where the sea Has lavished all its colour's misery? Have I not, unawakened and unkist. The chill, ethereal vestal. Amethyst; Coral so pale it seems a wizard brought It from world-ends to please her woman's thought, Have I not silks of rich monotony And colourful as Day's infinity? They come to me these women with pale hands And shining hair in shingled, perfumed bands - The Mecca of their dreams, my shops in spire Within their hearts Eve's infinite desire."

Lola Gornall