Cradles Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

Cradles

Of friends had some lines
-of Paris and Iran…
-both carry same blood
-old, ancient Arian…

Each is lump of sugar
-fallen into water
-Osmosis affected…

One says of friendship
-of the bear, butterfly
-another, of the fights.

The first is too sweet
-far better than honey.

Butterfly says to bear:
- "I love you my dear."

Replies bear with a yawn:
- "It is my sleep-time! "

By the time it wakes up
-butterfly is dead, gone.

Friend, then, recommends:
- "Love before it is late! "

But one of Champs-Élysées
-keeps in mouth the flame:
- "Must fight with our blood
-I mean to last drop…"

I know them since we have
-sharing roots with one past.

Our bones and our flesh
-grew where cradles,
-teach, train the kindness,
-which is killed by modern
-devil of the greed for power!