by Jaime Heller
Among the cream of the crop
with fancy, squished top
comes the fairest fungi around:
the mushroom by the pound.
You said you needed help
and so I gave out a yelp.
Oh, dear Mr. Frodo of Bag End
I will always come to aid a friend.
As we strode through Maggot’s crop,
we tripped and stumbled upon the top
of a hidden mushroom patch.
Pippin and I, the perfect match.
Sam grumbled. Frodo stared.
Neither of us much cared.
The joy of finding a shortcut to mushrooms
did not warn us of our impending dooms.
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