The danger of naming fussy plants after my fictional characters lies in the fact that I have something of a brown thumb. Dear friends, the dearly departed cattleya orchid was named “Kai” after the irascible Kai Alewright in “Wild Horses.” That’s him in the picture, a true redhead, wild and vibrant and beautiful.
His solemn partner “Attila” is inconsolable. True to the stoic and solemn Attila Keleman, the white phalaenopsis kept faithful watch over my writing in late 2013 (see photo below – how better to craft a sequel to “Wild Horses?) Now I worry that he will sulk in his grief and never go into spike again. To honor Attila’s beloved redhead, whom I have accidentally killed by transplanting him into a fully glazed pot, I have composed a poem in the tradition of the unforgettable William McGonagal, who is also knows as the worst poet in the history of the English language. (Really. Look him up.)
Ode to a Deceased Orchid
Beware ye of a pretty pot
Avoid a pot that will not drain
Glazed inside, it invites rot
Sleek shiny surface will cause pain.
His flower were crimson in youthful blush
Opening form his tight-wound buds
Their hue, in a fortnight, like an orange crush
Was like Kai’s hair in his grungy duds.
His lover mourns. The cattleya’s dead!
His phalaenopsis blooms pristine
He misses Kais’ tresses wild and red
Attila’s pale like a weeping moon.
Hear yea and avoid the mournful broken love!
Use proper orchid pots, not like I did above.