Short Toadstools Poems

Wild mushrooms
toadstools instead
Emergency room...

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wee
fairies
gayly flit
top mushrooms
searching for treasure
among the roots
of toadstools
algae,
too

written June 26, 2021
for "Ninette" poetry contest
sponsored by Caren Krutsinger...

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Sunlight tickles my eyes
Hypnagogic hallucinations steal the show
with surprise

A creature creeps
I gasp, in fascination’s glow
he leaps

He schemes
as toadstools blow
dreams

Sunlight tickles my eyes
I gasp, in fascination’s glow
dreams...

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Jumping frogs on a bog lady lily pad.
The best clodhoppers I ever had.
You do not get it but you are not me.
Looney and lively, as the coconut tree.

Cauliflower marigolds dancing in bunches.
Doing their exercises, struggling with crunches.
Cinnamon toadstools eaten by cats.
Nonsensical verse, how terrific is that?...

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I'm in a secret garden
Happening upon a book called Lost Words
My favourite spells within
Are Dandelion and Lark
I chatted to a dress designer
The pictures in the book fill my brain
As I now sit quietly
Imagining dresses covered in Ravens
The walls tell me of toadstools in pretty frames
This sitting and waiting suits my mood

*Waiting outside a children's party room...

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Her mushroom hat gave us pause, made us stop.
We saw beautiful monarchs nearing the top.
Mosses and violets surrounded the edge.
In the middle of the back was a woodland ledge.

Her mushroom hat was designed with love.
Inherited from her grandmother’s talents from above.
We were in awe of the gorgeous concoction she made.
There were tiny toadstools down in the grass shade....

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Come out, come out, taste the bouquet!
Flowers smell better tossed with stars;
Tonight the fairies will come out to play;

Riding the sky without handlebars 
the Fey’s toadstools delicately ring;
Their vibrato hanging within bell jars;

As you gaze within wings are fluttering,
throwing a wimpering whirring glow;
Your reality is left all but stuttering;

Vim and vigor pollinate with gusto,
tender loving care allows wishes to grow....

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I.

The eldest of unknowns, on hill or heath,
The hoary standing stones--
Secret, silent tombs or thrones-- 
Huddle where the tempest moans.

II.

In birch-bright woods we find fairy circles,
Rings of toadstools designed,
It seems, by some feral mind,
Unfathomed by humankind...

III.

Through velvet blue, star-strewn skies and throbbing
At the full rides the Moon,
With whom the night-winds commune,
Intoning their chthonic rune....

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they live in the toadstools of Venue Valley
materializing only when wanting to do mischief
or to frighten a superstitious human

I heard them giggling once,
but they did not appear to me
trolls are fearful of redheaded girls

We have a reputation of turning them into toads
or bats, cats, snakes or worse
it is our Celtic heritage on speed

come on out! I teased them
there was stony silence
I knew then how they feared me
it made me feel superior to trolls...

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I.

The weather is cold.  Do you need a sweater?
I feel warm and fine – never better.
Anything I can do for you?
Can’t think of one thing or two.
Want a hot cup of tea?
No thanks, not for me.
A nice back rub?
Not now bub.
Goodbye!
Bye!

II.

Hi!
Oh, hi!
How are you?
I have the flu.
Something I can do?
Can I have chicken stew?
So sir, I have no chicken,
But with toadstools I could thicken.
A nice back massage would sure be nice.
I surely doubt you could afford the price....

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Scarves of silken vapor parade from field to field
a variety of hues and colors, hiding fox and quail
I am traveling in my small plane, observing the result of labor
farmers in overalls working from sun to moon to provide food.

Scarves of silken vapor meander through the woods,
enticing violets, mushrooms, and toadstools to grow renegade
From this height I cannot observe the minnows, ants, or the fey, but….
I sense the faeries, elves and brownies, giving butterflies a standing ovation....

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