2. Helianthus and Hedera

Shall pagan worship lead astray,
The duteous sister in the garden?
Shall Mother Science save the day,
When flora falls for specious reason?

“Grow Helianthus, pagan flower,
Follow Phoebes photo light,
Those matins of your follower,
Look east to learn a god’s true might.”

Each dawn Phoebus Apollo rose,
As the sister said her prayers,
“Grow flower, strive against your foes,
The Lepidopteran naysayers.”

When westward Phoebus made descent:
“Grow Helianthus, turn your head,
And as your awn-like scales are meant,
A pappus falls into your bed.

“The polyphagous Larvae suck,
The juice of Erigeron’s pappus,
But you Helianthus only fuck,
Sterile rays which are caducous.”

Such mysteries the flower displayed,
The youthful sister did inquire,
But Mother Science remain staid,
“Hot plasma forms the sun, not fire.”

Not far from here Hedera grows,
Creeping upon the priory,
And to the nun bestows,
Warnings about idolatry.

“And does –” she asked. “Helianthus,
Who has no god except the sun,
Now make you so obsequious,
That your full devotion is won?

“A heliotropic debutante,
Who flatters but for greater growth,
Does he attract your earnest chant,
Of prayer and deprecating oath?

“Does he, sister, in desert heats,
Deserve a pappus of your own?
Wet are Lepidopterans’ seats,
Until caducous, his seed blown.

“For me, your praise is rather due,
In Phoebus I have little need,
Encircling and embracing you,
While Aves spreads my fruit and seed.”

“How now?” Helianthus replied.
“You have forgot the Dusty Wave,
And Shades, and Underwings denied;
By night, Lepidopterans rave.

“You have missed the Willow Beauties,
With speckled wings of whitish grey,
And I hate your Aves,
As I’m devoured by the Jay.

“Yet would you deny the day?
Upon your wall in gloomy shade,
Damn Phoebus Apollo, I say,
I am more what Diana made.

“What Diana does hunt at night,
From such my eye does not avert,
Oh my, Diana, out of sight!
From morn to eve, you shall convert.

“If she should share her night with me,
My love, my heart, my life is due,
And you, young nun – you thee –
The prayers you make shall all come true.”

Thus, spake the flower, and drooped his head,
Then brushed away a pollen tear,
The sister in a wonder led,
To evening mass – and then just here –

Confessed unto the Abbess next.
“Behold!” cried out Mother Science,
“The plants have you enthralled and vexed,
You should take heed in due diligence.

“Our hearts once seized are full of fears,
Once harmed, have much harm to remove,
Our tears are shed as heartfelt tears,
To make such inquiry, by Jove.

“See here Helianthus expels,
Carrion for mobile Larvae,
As for the pappus, therefore dwells,
A common wood pigeon nearby.

“Yet not for Larvae, nor the Thrush,
Nor a pappus, nor Apollo,
God made us for the blood, not bush,
Do not forsake Him – science, follow.

“Hot plasma forms our solar star,
The moon has its crustal highland,
Oh child, you have not travelled far,
To make yourself a spoiled garland.”

As one so duteous, one so fair,
The nun knew her Mother’s preaching,
So, she joined in silent prayer,
On scientific teaching.

“Sunflower, you face east at morn,
And turn westward to find your bed,
Dear Helianthus, we are sworn,
Wherefore all of us are led.

“Dear Hedera, in gloomy shade,
Your ivy vine gives ripe berries,
A poison fruit for Aves made,
And insects – but, no worries.”

Portentous was the evening now,
In her cell, forebodings mild,
And it was dark except the glow,
Of Leto’s lovely second child.[i]

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[i] By Zeus: Artemis, virgin goddess of the moon.