Amidst a copse of fragrant pine
Stood a bunch of toadstools fine
Rubicund like Betty Boop
Made me pause to look, to stoop,
And ponder crafting mushroom wine.
On second thoughts, might make me die.
As the brain floats on a muscimol high
This Fly agaric is potent, no?
From Siberia to, ahem, Jericho?
So I leave them when I find them. Sigh!
Amanita muscaria you look too loud,
Spotty bling and standing proud.
I am tempted to bite
But now shake with fright.
Lest I play the harp on a cumulus cloud.
Cautionary limericks for Fawnces, Henners and Blankyd ~ never lick a toadstool while out in the garden,