Lilies: Love’s Opening

a long weekend in Clonakilty and a bunch of lilies rekindles memories and fosters love



At the florist’s in Clonakilty,

“Oriental lilies,” she said.

They’re the only kind that’ll open

in Ireland; like those inked glories

Olga gave to me in Paris.

They bloomed in no time madly –

Showed she loved me without tariff.”


A bunch is scented, selected, bought.

“Let’s see how these behave this week.”


She plants them closed in a teapot

Love’s pale green hopes:

                                    Feeds them water,

More; first waking thin clitorises

Pushing showed through the whitening

Hoods darkly – “It begins, she says,

The revelation of life’s glory”–

Unrooted stems still thickening,

Echoes of a mother’s memory

Feeding this second fleeting sprouting

Past death as resurgent daughters.


Moon’s measure passing increases

The opening – the subtle unfolding –

Which lazy days and peat fires burning

Cannot halt. This second birth’s needs

Need just as much as the first – reeds

Dried, petals failing she nurtures,

Gently whispering…

                           then in raptures

This Lazarean bloom explodes,

Each bud, even the last stubborn two,

Of itself incarnate, arched unfolds

A proclamation of true love,

And I, in wonder, look upon them and her.

© Bhi 2023
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Hi B this appears to be a moment in time story. Not sure of the significance of Ireland, but that doesn’t matter, it’s a pleasant tale. The study of their opening is well described and charged with eroticism as you no doubt intended. I certainly think Lilies can appear more erotic than geraniums, but the way nearly all flowers open themselves to fertilisation could be considered erotic. However, I would rather see them as vaginal in the same way as certain fruits & vegs can be considered phallic. That doesn’t necessarily make them erotic. That emotion is surely down to… Read more »

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