This is a poem inspired by the fact the biggest bud in Wales is now beginning to bloom! A marvellous sight I am hoping to see within the next week... The Puya, as it's called, is on view at the National Botanic Garden of Wales, and this is the first time it's blossomed for a whole decade! Quite thrilling news... and the first of a few poems I feel inspired to write about the thing.
Find out more here: http://www.gardenofwales.org.uk/news/biggest-bud-in-wales/
Poem for the Puya
Puya, they call you. The word sticky
In their mouths. You prickle the roof
Of the glass house, unsettle the groups
Of visiting classes. Like a nettle, your
Leaves are stingsharp, laced with thorns.
“Cruel”, they remark. Your taste is for
Animal flesh, which they hook, pull in, and
Starve to death. Their blood is your food.
Your bed more wet with this than dew.
From the Andes to Llanarthney you
Came. A monster baby in a way: eight
Feet tall and closer to a mutant than
A flower. Towering above the others,
A giant in the nursery. Cursed to slowness,
Reliant on your new owners, still you
Grew, your brontosaurus neck too thick
For them to prune; a Chilean imposter
That loomed above its human masters.
But now, a decade later, you’re in bud,
About to blossom. Your body as round
And fulsome as a woman’s. Crowds
Come to marvel, wondering at your
Beauty. Eyes hunger for your form.
Cameras snap and looks are thrown,
But sweeter than before. You ignore
Them; take no note. Your name now
Sweet as nectar in every thirsting throat.