An ancient mother,
the agriculture, you are
for many cuisines

Your mystique begins
in Mesopotamia
Spread by Phoenicians

Egypt loved you, Greece
sang your gospel, Rome made
you Queen beside God

Queen you still are, as
your influence succeeded
pulpit, to palate

Refreshing and plump
silky body in a tight jacket
gushes on the tongue

Squished and bubbled over
extra sugar in the pot
cooled and spread on toast

Cold and wet pucker
make a small child’s lips smack and
slurp all the goodness

Out in the hot sun
flavor condenses slowly
into a red box

To eat you fresh, dried,
juiced, or even jellied! gives
no understanding

Fermentation gave
you powers, good and evil
as all mothers have