I tend my flowers for thee—
Bright Absentee!
My Fuchsia's Coral Seams
Rip—while the Sower—dreams—
Geraniums—tint—and spot—
Low Daisies—dot—
My Cactus—splits her Beard
To show her throat—
Carnations—tip their spice—
And Bees—pick up—
A Hyacinth—I hid—
Puts out a Ruffled Head—
And odors fall
From flasks—so small—
You marvel how they held—
Globe Roses—break their satin flake—
Upon my Garden floor—
Yet—thou—not there—
I had as lief they bore
No Crimson—more—
Thy flower—be gay—
Her Lord—away!
It ill becometh me—
I'll dwell in Calyx—Gray—
How modestly—alway—
Thy Daisy—
Draped for thee!
F367
(1862) 339
One
reason flowers are traditionally considered to be the language of love is
because descriptions of flowers can so easily be sexual. Petals can be soft and
creamy. Some flowers open to the prowling bee, luring him into their hidden
parts to find the nectar he craves. Red roses indicate passion. In this
flirtatious poem, Dickinson uses one flower after another to reveal the
feelings of a woman for her absent “Lord,” the “Bright Absentee!”
![]() |
Bursting fuschia flowers |
The
poem’s speaker dreams of him—or perhaps she is simply dreaming to while away
the time while he is gone. She refers to herself as “the Sower,” the creator of
the garden—an interesting gender reversal as typically the sower is masculine
and the receiving and fertile earth, feminine. And sure enough, in the last
stanza the speaker metaphorically becomes the flower. As a sower, the speaker
leaves much to be desired. Even though she claims to be tending her garden for her lover, it is in fact neglected. While the lover, her lord, is away, her interior garden is blooming, ripening, and even decaying--all while the Sower sleeps.
As she
dreams of her lord, her fuchsia swells and bursts. Her “Cactus—splits her Beard
/ To show her throat”—and image suggesting the Sower is ripe and opening. Meanwhile, the geraniums and daisies that
should have been pruned and dead-headed have flowered and now are past their
prime.
![]() |
bearded cactus |
Likewise, the fragrant
carnation flowers mature and “tip their spice” while a ruffled hyacinth
practically drips with sweet-smelling nectar. These luscious smells serve to
attract pollinators and, sure enough, the bees do come around. Dickinson finally
introduces the rose, the ultimate symbol of love. “Globe Roses,” the full,
soft, round sort, she says, shed their petals “Upon my Garden floor.” It is as
if the fullness of her womanhood, her ripeness, is going to waste. She would
rather that her rose bushes bore no fruit at all if her lord isn’t there.
![]() |
Ruffled hyacinth |
The last stanza completes the
flirtation. There’s no way, she protests, that I should reveal my sexual
attractiveness while her lord is absent. “It ill becometh me,” she says.
Instead she’ll wrap herself in plain gray sepals, the “Calyx” within which the
bud ripens. In this modest attire she will be “Draped” until her lord’s return.
It teases like a stripper with flounces and boas.
Scholars try to pin this poem
on Dickinson’s feelings for the traveling Samuel Bowles. He was a man who
appreciated gardens and flowers. Dickinson may have loved him passionately.
Nonetheless, the poem reads quite satisfactorily without having to dredge
biographical details out of it. There is for most of us that moment when the
fragrant rose petals fall to the garden floor. Isn’t this the best time for
love? Wouldn’t it be sad if the loved one was far away while our bloom came and
went? I think that’s what Dickinson is getting at here.
This reminds me of a nun's secret passion for her beloved, Jesus. The inner nectar hidden inside the startched robes, in the Gray, modestly.
ReplyDeleteAnd that last image of the Daisy Draped reminds me of a coffin, and how the poet pines over her Bright Absentee.
Ah, a Song of Solomon poem. Thanks.
DeleteI always loved this poem for the descriptions. But the sexual metaphors is so interesting and adds so much meaning. Thank you for this. :)
ReplyDelete