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THE PSYCHEDELIC STEW 
 
We loved to drive out through the hills 
Where landscapes are so green, 
And always sought the smell of hay 
That seemed so fresh and clean. 
 
We'd rent a cosy cottage there 
Around that time each year, 
The days and nights were magical 
And life was full of cheer. 
 
That night we planned a simple tea 
A good old country stew, 
With fresh grown mushrooms we had picked 
As 'round the place they grew. 
 
Those mushrooms seemed much larger then 
The ones we'd norm'lly find, 
But in they went with all the rest, 
We really did not mind. 
 
Our stew was just the best we'd had 
On that we did agree, 
Then sitting back and quite content 
Enjoyed a cup of tea. 
 
When suddenly, in front of us,  
Our kitchen came to life 
With antics never seen before; 
Sure terrified my wife. 
 
She sat and watched with fear filled eyes 
For both her knife and fork, 
Were standing up and quite erect 
And both of them could walk. 

The kitchen curtains did a jig 
And plates flew 'round the room, 
Our mop then left its corner spot 
To line dance with the broom. 
 
Old teapot sang and clapped its hands, 
The tea cups joined in too. 
My mind it boggled at the sight 
and wondered what to do. 
 
I grabbed the phone and dialled for help 
That soon was on its way; 
Though not before the pots and pans 
Had all began to play. 
 
Poor doctor tried to calm us down 
Enquiring of our plight. 
We mentioned what had taken place, 
The horrors of that night. 
 
He summed up what had taken place, 
The answer he now knew, 
We'd eaten mushrooms which produced, 
A psychedelic stew.

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