MAIDS AND MUSHROOMS
Oddly fashioned, quaintly dyed,
In the wood the mushrooms hide;
Rich and meaty, full of flavor,
Made for man’s delicious savor.
But he shudders and he shrinks
At the piquant mauves and pinks.
Who is brave enough to dare
Curious shapes and colors rare,
Dainties in peculiar dresses,
Fairy-rings and inky messes?
Something sinister must be
In the strange variety.
It is better not to know;
Safer but to peer—and go.
So the mushrooms dry and fade,
Like full many a blooming maid,
With her dower of preciousness
Hid too well for men to guess.
But the toadstools bright and yellow
Tempt and poison many a fellow,
With their flaunting beauty bright,
The bold promise of delight.
Taste and suffer, ache and burn;
Generations do not learn!
Nay, a little mushroom study
Would not injure anybody.