Among the Toadstools

Wild Mushrooms

In mossy shade where secrets keep,

The forest hums, the shadows sleep.

A circle forms, both sly and small,

A fairy’s lantern, a woodland hall.

Red-capped guards with spotted crowns,

Lift from earth where roots run down.

Some glow pale, like whispered moons,

Others bloom in dusky tunes.

I kneel to watch their silent play,

A kingdom hidden from the day.

Each stem a story, soft and true,

Mushrooms whisper what forests knew.