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Jane Bailey
Jane was born in Belfast. Self-imposed exile to the seaside provided inspiration for some of the poetry on this site. She reads regularly at the Arcadia Cafe, North Street Arcade, Belfast.
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Arum by Jane Bailey
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Lily; lighthouse in a storm,
Champagne flute, dew-filled by dawn.
Crystal goblet for the bees to dine
On nectar in an arctic funnel.
Sweet buzzing from the Opera House.
Brazen porcelain shoulders reflect a corsage lushly green.
Swan-throated, she lets fall her white mantilla, Arcs an
ivory song across the pond... Silent echo curves through
bull reeds, Serenades the moorhen in her den beyond.
Summer's end, her candle, pointing to the sky,
Proclaims last aria: Time to die.
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