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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required 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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