Male long-horned bees often attempt to mate with flowers of the European orchid Ophrys. During this encounter, a sac of pollen becomes glued to the insect’s body. Eventually frustrated the bee flies off and deposits the pollen onto another Ophrys flower that has become the object of his misplaced ardor. Ophrys flowers offer no reward such as nectar to the male bees, only sexual frustration. Yet, the male bees are very enamored by this orchid.
In the following poem, I have attempted to capture the feelings of an unsuspecting bee that loves the flower dearly and never in his lifetime realizes it is actually a flower.
Misplaced Ardour of the Ophrys
Alluringly she looked at me,
Playfully coy, eyebrows curved just right
Swaying in the breeze, her eyes fixated on something I couldn’t see.
Blithely resting on her ivory throne so bright.
She looked at me again, sending chills up my exoskeleton,
This is what they talked about, the human obsession with love all the time
The spell they spoke of had been cast, it could not be undone.
I understood what they meant, in my own way sublime
That sight, so ensnaring, made my heart buzz faster.
Her scent, I could tell from a hundred feet away.
A fragrance beckoning me with relentless luster,
But if I met her, I wouldn’t know what to say.
I wondered why butterflies in the stomach they spoke of,
Staring at her from a distance, now I knew what that felt like,
Of caterpillars growing in my abdomen, I’d had enough.
The distance to her, I finally decided to hike.
Fluttering fast, as I rushed to her residence,
I realised I had fallen for her, antenna over wings
Perched on the plant with elegance,
She had a crown that would make dull a king’s.
She looked at me again, my exoskeleton exploding
My wings skipped a buzz, eyes refused to blink
I was finally ready, after much goading
In her warm embrace to sink
As I spoke to her in hushed tones of muted love
She remained silent, still as a sweet honeycomb.
Her skin touched mine, soft as a dove
I wanted to spend my life there, engulfed in her cologne.
Of my ardour for her I told with passion,
She listened unmoved, except for the breeze.
My words exhausted, body dripping with emotion,
I asked ‘why, oh why is it that to speak you cease?’
As I buzzed along her periphery
Bewildered, I waited in vain.
Trying to extract an answer, an epiphany
I yearned for her voice, oh that wistful pain
The buzz of her wings I never heard,
A single loving look she never cast my way
That had happened which I feared,
She did not love me back, there was nothing left to say.
As I left dilapidated, saddened by my failed endeavor,
I noticed a weight on my back, it was laden
With tiny little specks of a different flavor,
A parting gift from my fair maiden.
In remembrance of her beauty I adorned my wings
With those flecks, that I pass on
To every plant I visit, as a song of beauty my heart sings
A messenger of love I deem myself, newly born.
Ballads will be sung in memory of my love,
For her charm and disarming power,
She will be known as the bee
that reminded her lover of a flower.
This is part of the collection at the official bioclub at Azim Premji University. Find the link here.
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