To you plump puffball,
Squatter of the mushroom fungi.
May your soils be rich
And your spores be many!
Moonstone child of nocturnal reverie
Pride tempts to invite fallacious vanity.
Creamy alabaster skin,
Spongy firm of flesh within.
A saucy lunar face to taunt the sun.
His nomadic gaze leaves no course for fun.
The sun edges off towards autumn skies,
Pragmatically steady; contemplatively wise.
The sun may have kissed her on a whim,
Crazed butterfly flutters; needles to pins.
Translucent skin, her conceit and crown,
Blushes from saffron hue, to Dijon brown.
Physical metamorphosis; transmutations collide,
She becomes a phase converted seasonal bride.
To celebrate this new found core,
She sends up clouds of dust, and sleepy spores.