The mulberry trees dream

Manuel_Garcia_y_Rodriguez01

 

While wild vines wind their ropes of scarlet fire

About the poplars on the bank

And leaves fall pale and thin as wintry sun

The mulberries hold up leaves of glossy green

To catch the failing heat before the season’s done.

 

Their roots delve deep into the dark

To drink from wells of a forgotten source

Cold and pure beneath the desert sands

Where golden memories sleep in tombs of tumbled stone

Fallen walls of cities built by servile hands.

 

Running water sings in cool dug earth

And laughs in fountained gardens’ cloistered shade

That echoed once with songs of sweet despair

Of birds in gilded cages hung beneath the trees

Their notes still ringing in the dusty desert air.

 

Manuel_García_Rodríguez_First_Atrium_of_Santa_Paula_Convent_Seville

 

On the eve of autumn at the turning of the year

The mulberries remember summer’s song

And raise their boughs to listen to the rhyme

As crystal water courses through the earth

Murmuring stories of stone basins cracked with time.

 

Rocked by memories of summers past

The mulberry trees prepare their winter fast

To sleep and dream of Persian sands

And times when scented forests cast a soothing shade

Beneath the everlasting sun of antique lands.

Published by

Jane Dougherty

I used to do lots of things I didn't much enjoy. Now I am officially a writer. It's what I always wanted to be.

20 thoughts on “The mulberry trees dream”

      1. I just love trees and anything to do with them, so this appealed. I love walking through woods and forests and could never live where there aren’t any trees. That would be hell on earth for me. Loved it. 🙂

      2. When you’re in the city you have to make an effort to blot out the noise and the rest. Makes you concentrate on the details of the wild things that manage to live side by side with our ordered idea of greenery.

    1. Thanks Laurie. I’ve never tasted them. The oriental-looking types who know all about mulberries get all the ripe ones I could reach without a ladder. The birds get the rest. Good for them 🙂

      1. Laurie, you are alive and well. I was worried something had happened to you, I have not seen anything of you in a couple of years and I missed you. Welcome back to my realm of being. Stay well and happy. I am still here. xx

  1. Very descriptive and contemplative indeed: Much the same as Mary T. Dougherty’s poem “Birds in the Mulberry Tree” from about the same time period. I wish I saw this earlier.

    1. Thanks Jane. Yes, we did seem to drop off the edge of the world, didn’t we? This poem is from 2014 though. Somebody commented on it yesterday too. I’m wondering what’s going on…

      1. Lol so am I, Facebook is the same. Very selective what you can see. I wondered if you had given up, Laurie Smith seemed to have and then I saw his comment on your post. People do tend to disappear and some come back, others don’t. Glad to find you again.

      2. Yes, but Laurie left that comment seven years ago! He has been out of circulation for years. I checked up on him for a while but he wasn’t getting any better.

      3. Oh thanks, I did wonder. If you have contact give him my regards, I miss his beautiful photos and he was a fab guest author on here back when. xx

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