Mullberry Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

Mulberry

Not many know of this
To me come memories

Grandpa fell off that tree
My name comes from him.

And sister was angel
She flew in the swing.

Dad asked me: “have you seen? ”
I answered: “I’ve eaten all of it.”

I am made of this fruit
Who gets it, nobody?

In love I, about it do speak
Some come and, bring gift

Mulberry…
Mulberry…
Mulberry…

I received and wondered
What friend had ordered
His father brought some.

The old ways are long gone,
Vacuumed, is dated new pack.
So unlike what was past; a hair bags.