Some forty years ago my mother and father planted a mulberry tree in front of the farm. Three years ago my father, who is much more of an expert on these things than I’ll ever be, pronounced the tree dead. As we were busy we never got around to cutting it down and it grew leaves and survived. This year, for the first time ever, it is showing signs of preparing to shower us with fruit. We have been discussing what we may do with the fruit…

We were to cut down the Mulberry bush,
The Mulberry bush, the Mulberry bush,
We’d cut it up to make some logs,
But we haven’t had the time!

There is fruit on the Mulberry bush!
The Mulberry bus, the Mulberry bush!
We going to pick fruit from the Mulberry bush,
For the very first time!

We will be making Mulberry gin!
Mulberry gin, Mulberry gin,
We’re going to make cocktails from the Mulberry gin,
And it will taste better than wine!

… and you’re all welcome to come and taste!

© Baldock Bard 2013
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