Lillies are beautiful flowers, and I love the day lillies that show up alongside our house every summer. I want more of them, looking at their colors and smelling them always makes me want more. I love the colors, their bright orange and brown and their graceful, large stems. They mean that spring and summer have come, and they remind me to enjoy the time in the sun because very soon, it will be winter again and they will be gone.
Lillies conjoure up images of beauty, but also sadness as they are often associated with funerals. The word makes me think of Shakespeare, for some reason I can’t place. Lillies is also a pleasing word to look at, I think.
I see the lily
colours woven light
I smell the lily
pollen lines hair
I touch the lily
roll it in my touch
I hear the lily
swaying to my breath
I taste the lily
stem sliding down
lillies half blooming half withered by the windmill country, rocking to the tunes of dostorting winds, yet they speak of the harmonies of nature and brighten my world, just like she does.. everyday
I pick my nose as often as you pick lillies for moi. Le foi, les poisosns, le petit pois. My soggy pomegranate heart teases you with pickle breath. the undulating perfunctory beat of the 5 hz gaia beat, as is my soggy heart beat. Yet, you stare, dumbfounded, irksome, libations adrip… what happened to the je ne sais q’oui, the imparted glance of who-done-it. Oh, the gregarioius knuckleheaded bathroom break, whilst I still yearn for your passing. Yes, I washed my hands. and the Soap in the museum bathroom smells like warm apple croissants. Just another Fronch reference for the sake of romance. and I don’t have an apple under my arm to give you in due time, such as Napolean nostalgicly sniffed for his imparted lovers. But we are not lovers. illness lovesickness. lillith faire. tilted chins, limp bisguits, sans lillies from you. Oh my soggy pomegranate silly hearted love sickness.
Lillies are perfection. Varied, beautiful, perfumed. They bloomed in the Garden of Eden, in the Hanging Gardens of Babylon and everywhere that people demanded purity and loveliness. Lillies are also associated with death.
My mother couldn’t abide lilies. Funerial she said. So for her coffin we brought freesias which she loved and whose heavenly perfume she could not smell.
And as we laid there reminiscing in the field of lilies we realized we matter to each other more than we ever had. Because without each other, where would we be now? Lost.
everytime i hear of lillies, i remember movies and books with characters that love them. what is it about them? it’s not that i don’t like it. but everytime i hear of them, it doesn’t make me want lillies but reminds me of my own favorite flower.
The lillies flowering at the edge of the pond were among the most beautiful I had ever seen. The sweeping, elegant curves of the petals just accentuated the beauty of the flowers.
They were her favourites but I always hated them, lillies they remind me of death. Funeral parlours, long stemmed in tall vases filled with pale water.
what a beautifull summer it was,lying with him in the fields surrounded by all these beautifull lillies,our skin being kissed by the sun,i could swear that the whole universe was trying to bring us together coz everything was just perfect,and when he put that lillie in my hair my heart just melted and i knew,this was it———-
Lilies, I looked at them, see how beautiful they are, I smiled as I walked again, still seeing the lilies from the side of my eyes. I wish I could just be a lily, just floating there, living peacefully, I just wish I could live peacefully, then there, I hear my parents shouting at each other, I ran to our house.
lillies were steve’s favourite flower. ever since his mother died, he went and placed fresh lillies on her grave every sunday night. his father never went with him. his father blamed him for his mothers death. the lillies reminded steve of all the good memories he had of his mother. when they died, he got to at least buy new ones
are white. and i would like to have them at my funeral along with red roses. and black clothing. and “Free bird” by Lynyrd Skynyrd playing in the background.
Tony nibbled on a slice of grapefruit that looked a bit like van Gogh’s ear off his breakfast plate. He remarked to his cat, “Miz Tilly, I need you to understand something.” He grabbed one of the lillies that looked like van Gogh’s belly button from the vase in the middle of his breakfast table and chewed on it, spattering spittle and petal pieces as he continued. “Call me deeply closeted, but I ain’t gonna eat that link sausage.”
Songbirds, like warblers and finches I think, were once attracted to lillies like bees I’m told are attracted to the other flowers from which we get sweet honey. But something is happening. I think I read somewhere that there are more songbirds killed every year by sociopathic pet cats and more flowers disappeared from the imaginative potential regions of running, shooting, hitting young boys by way of capitalistic comforty consumer culture and homophobic parenting respectively than there are people both reading and forgetting how to read combined!
i want to sit next to a stream with you
and watch lilies drift and dry
we can spy on mother nature as she goes about her duties
fixing up trees and making the flower’s dew
i can look at you and see
how beautiful the world actually is
through you, the world printed on your heart
can i leave a mark? i want to. i want to taste you, all of you.
Lilies grow all over the world, but more in the warmer parts of the world. But the word of the day is “lillies.” I really think that is misspelled, and I find it rather distracting. I’m going to have to look it up.
I was walking in a flower patch recently. It wasn’t your ordinary, everyday flower patch, per se. There was something a bit more mystical about it, although you would think that flower patches are very much the same in that way. However, the lillies were in full bloom, and a sort of iridescent dust floated amongst them.
In Japan, the word “lily” has come to mean a genre about straight school girls who fall in love with each other for the invisible audience of straight people.
They get this phrasing from the “lily tribe” or the lesbian community. Strange how one can be so objectifying and the other so empowering.
I’m thinking of a woman’s stomach, pale and translucent. I’m thinking of the valley her belly makes when she stretches out on her back, a valley surrounded my mountains of hipbones and rib cage that are shaped like lillies.
In Japan, “yuri,” the word for “lily,” was used to describe the Lesbian community, naming them the lily tribe. It sounds so empowering, doesn’t it? WE’RE A FUCKIN TRIBE, WITH LILIES!
Tom doesn’t know where the flowers came from, a little bouquet of lillies resting on a glass vase on the middle of his table. The petals moon white and soft and Tom isn’t used to flowers or romance of anything soft. Tom is used to grime and grit and angry hands on his skin. Ryan left a note. Ryan left him the flowers.
She stepped into the field of lilies. I was so peaceful. So tranquil. She lost sight of the world. All she knew was peace. She lied in the yellow blanket and soaked in the rays of the sun. She was complete.
pretty flowers. white. remind me of taemin. onew is soo cutee. i’ve always wanted a dog called lilly. ithink i had one in my nintendo ds. i miss my ds.. my dad sold it cause i got an itouch :( now i cant own dogs… and i wotn be getting one naytime so
See the lilies of the field how they dress in all their splendor ~ reminds me of my mother. Even though she did worry ~ and she sure spent money to dress in all her splendor ~ neglecting to do house repairs which was more practical.
In Japan, the word for ‘lily,’ ‘yuri,’ has been used by one writer to describe the Japanese lesbian community. “The Lily tribe.” Now it’s a genre that is main
This reminds me of Elfen Lied’s opening theme song, “Lilium.” Weird doesn’t even begin to describe that manga/anime. Chilling, violent, gruesome, and yet innocent sometimes even cute – still these are just upper tier descriptors for this iceberg of a story.
Lillies of the Valley spring forth from the night. I picture their petals dripping with dew, practically smelling their sweet scent as I picture that night, immersed in the memories.
“What’s your favourite flower”, he asks again, sighing as he tries to reset my password for me.
I have not known many lilies, but the first I met many years ago in a cabin hidden in Ireland’s Wicklow mountains where she lived with her teapot and children and a fire that never grew cold in the hearth. She disappeared when I came back to find her but her stories linger still and I go every year to hear them.
Lillies are beautiful flowers, and I love the day lillies that show up alongside our house every summer. I want more of them, looking at their colors and smelling them always makes me want more. I love the colors, their bright orange and brown and their graceful, large stems. They mean that spring and summer have come, and they remind me to enjoy the time in the sun because very soon, it will be winter again and they will be gone.
Lilies remind me of my faith in God. They are as pure as Him and nothing could ever measure up to that.
beautiful flowers that smell funny.
a bit overpowering
wasn’t that Herman Muenster’s wife’s name?
Lilies. Those were her favorite. Now he remembered.
They say when faced with imminent death, only the most important things flash before your eyes. For him, it was lilies.
Lillies conjoure up images of beauty, but also sadness as they are often associated with funerals. The word makes me think of Shakespeare, for some reason I can’t place. Lillies is also a pleasing word to look at, I think.
flower nice smell love water lilies ı like lilies bla bla blaa bla bla
I see the lily
colours woven light
I smell the lily
pollen lines hair
I touch the lily
roll it in my touch
I hear the lily
swaying to my breath
I taste the lily
stem sliding down
lillies half blooming half withered by the windmill country, rocking to the tunes of dostorting winds, yet they speak of the harmonies of nature and brighten my world, just like she does.. everyday
lilles are one of the beautiful groups of flowers. They are either white or pink in colour. They grow in areas such as………
I pick my nose as often as you pick lillies for moi. Le foi, les poisosns, le petit pois. My soggy pomegranate heart teases you with pickle breath. the undulating perfunctory beat of the 5 hz gaia beat, as is my soggy heart beat. Yet, you stare, dumbfounded, irksome, libations adrip… what happened to the je ne sais q’oui, the imparted glance of who-done-it. Oh, the gregarioius knuckleheaded bathroom break, whilst I still yearn for your passing. Yes, I washed my hands. and the Soap in the museum bathroom smells like warm apple croissants. Just another Fronch reference for the sake of romance. and I don’t have an apple under my arm to give you in due time, such as Napolean nostalgicly sniffed for his imparted lovers. But we are not lovers. illness lovesickness. lillith faire. tilted chins, limp bisguits, sans lillies from you. Oh my soggy pomegranate silly hearted love sickness.
Lillies are perfection. Varied, beautiful, perfumed. They bloomed in the Garden of Eden, in the Hanging Gardens of Babylon and everywhere that people demanded purity and loveliness. Lillies are also associated with death.
My mother couldn’t abide lilies. Funerial she said. So for her coffin we brought freesias which she loved and whose heavenly perfume she could not smell.
And as we laid there reminiscing in the field of lilies we realized we matter to each other more than we ever had. Because without each other, where would we be now? Lost.
everytime i hear of lillies, i remember movies and books with characters that love them. what is it about them? it’s not that i don’t like it. but everytime i hear of them, it doesn’t make me want lillies but reminds me of my own favorite flower.
purple
soft
skin
fresh
air
nature
girl
magic
freedom
tinkerbell
romantic
purple
color
rainbow
I hold that bunch of lillies. I was waiting for you to arrive. I don’t know how long I’ve waited. I really thought you’d come… but I was wrong.
The lillies flowering at the edge of the pond were among the most beautiful I had ever seen. The sweeping, elegant curves of the petals just accentuated the beauty of the flowers.
They were her favourites but I always hated them, lillies they remind me of death. Funeral parlours, long stemmed in tall vases filled with pale water.
what a beautifull summer it was,lying with him in the fields surrounded by all these beautifull lillies,our skin being kissed by the sun,i could swear that the whole universe was trying to bring us together coz everything was just perfect,and when he put that lillie in my hair my heart just melted and i knew,this was it———-
Lilies, I looked at them, see how beautiful they are, I smiled as I walked again, still seeing the lilies from the side of my eyes. I wish I could just be a lily, just floating there, living peacefully, I just wish I could live peacefully, then there, I hear my parents shouting at each other, I ran to our house.
lillies were steve’s favourite flower. ever since his mother died, he went and placed fresh lillies on her grave every sunday night. his father never went with him. his father blamed him for his mothers death. the lillies reminded steve of all the good memories he had of his mother. when they died, he got to at least buy new ones
are white. and i would like to have them at my funeral along with red roses. and black clothing. and “Free bird” by Lynyrd Skynyrd playing in the background.
Lillies make me think of beauty. Sometimes, I hate beauty. Sometimes I resent it, yet I want it. I guess jealousy does make you nasty.
Tony nibbled on a slice of grapefruit that looked a bit like van Gogh’s ear off his breakfast plate. He remarked to his cat, “Miz Tilly, I need you to understand something.” He grabbed one of the lillies that looked like van Gogh’s belly button from the vase in the middle of his breakfast table and chewed on it, spattering spittle and petal pieces as he continued. “Call me deeply closeted, but I ain’t gonna eat that link sausage.”
Songbirds, like warblers and finches I think, were once attracted to lillies like bees I’m told are attracted to the other flowers from which we get sweet honey. But something is happening. I think I read somewhere that there are more songbirds killed every year by sociopathic pet cats and more flowers disappeared from the imaginative potential regions of running, shooting, hitting young boys by way of capitalistic comforty consumer culture and homophobic parenting respectively than there are people both reading and forgetting how to read combined!
i want to sit next to a stream with you
and watch lilies drift and dry
we can spy on mother nature as she goes about her duties
fixing up trees and making the flower’s dew
i can look at you and see
how beautiful the world actually is
through you, the world printed on your heart
can i leave a mark? i want to. i want to taste you, all of you.
Lilies grow all over the world, but more in the warmer parts of the world. But the word of the day is “lillies.” I really think that is misspelled, and I find it rather distracting. I’m going to have to look it up.
Green and white against a gold
Leaves soft against skin
Smell so sweet, like perfume for a queen
Tied in ribbon the color of crowns
A gift so dear.
I was walking in a flower patch recently. It wasn’t your ordinary, everyday flower patch, per se. There was something a bit more mystical about it, although you would think that flower patches are very much the same in that way. However, the lillies were in full bloom, and a sort of iridescent dust floated amongst them.
In Japan, the word “lily” has come to mean a genre about straight school girls who fall in love with each other for the invisible audience of straight people.
They get this phrasing from the “lily tribe” or the lesbian community. Strange how one can be so objectifying and the other so empowering.
I’m thinking of a woman’s stomach, pale and translucent. I’m thinking of the valley her belly makes when she stretches out on her back, a valley surrounded my mountains of hipbones and rib cage that are shaped like lillies.
In Japan, “yuri,” the word for “lily,” was used to describe the Lesbian community, naming them the lily tribe. It sounds so empowering, doesn’t it? WE’RE A FUCKIN TRIBE, WITH LILIES!
Tom doesn’t know where the flowers came from, a little bouquet of lillies resting on a glass vase on the middle of his table. The petals moon white and soft and Tom isn’t used to flowers or romance of anything soft. Tom is used to grime and grit and angry hands on his skin. Ryan left a note. Ryan left him the flowers.
She stepped into the field of lilies. I was so peaceful. So tranquil. She lost sight of the world. All she knew was peace. She lied in the yellow blanket and soaked in the rays of the sun. She was complete.
pretty flowers. white. remind me of taemin. onew is soo cutee. i’ve always wanted a dog called lilly. ithink i had one in my nintendo ds. i miss my ds.. my dad sold it cause i got an itouch :( now i cant own dogs… and i wotn be getting one naytime so
See the lilies of the field how they dress in all their splendor ~ reminds me of my mother. Even though she did worry ~ and she sure spent money to dress in all her splendor ~ neglecting to do house repairs which was more practical.
In Japan, the word for ‘lily,’ ‘yuri,’ has been used by one writer to describe the Japanese lesbian community. “The Lily tribe.” Now it’s a genre that is main
This reminds me of Elfen Lied’s opening theme song, “Lilium.” Weird doesn’t even begin to describe that manga/anime. Chilling, violent, gruesome, and yet innocent sometimes even cute – still these are just upper tier descriptors for this iceberg of a story.
Lillies of the Valley spring forth from the night. I picture their petals dripping with dew, practically smelling their sweet scent as I picture that night, immersed in the memories.
“What’s your favourite flower”, he asks again, sighing as he tries to reset my password for me.
I have not known many lilies, but the first I met many years ago in a cabin hidden in Ireland’s Wicklow mountains where she lived with her teapot and children and a fire that never grew cold in the hearth. She disappeared when I came back to find her but her stories linger still and I go every year to hear them.