"AH" , Mushrooms"

It was morning, the fields would be covered with dew

Six O’clock no less, I could only find one shoe

I was dazed, body in tune with my head

As I sat there, legs dangling over the bed


We agreed to meet at this Godly hour, it’s true

Here I was looking around for that fecken lost shoe

Cyril was knocking outside, that was a terrible blunder

Because at this bewitching hour, it sounded more like thunder


Looking down from my window I whispered ”SHUSH”

“Don’t knock again”and “What’s the big rush”

“Be down in a minute, I’m just getting out of the bed”

must not forget the pillowcase , it’s under my brothers head


I tiptoed back from the window to get that pillowcase

There it was nestled , under my brothers face

To wake him now would make matters worse

The shoe is still missing and I’m about to curse


Just then the Bolster came into view

On the floor near the dresser; surely that will do

Get rid of the feathers, turn it inside out

To fill it with mushrooms, that’s what its all about


Out in the hallway I opened the string

No feathers at all, were in this old thing

Old jackets , an overcoat with buttons too

And there in a shirt is my other old shoe


So down the stairs and through the front door

Setting our sights on the Shannon's shore

Up Lelia place, past “Farrell’s Sweet Shop”

Beyond O'Neill’s yard, with nary a stop


The Barrel Yard quiet, too early for work

My brothers had sold the feathers to Feathery Burke

I’m quite sure now, Mom and Dad didn’t know

Their sons found a way, to make some extra dough


Beyond the Nuns Field lay, Mick Madden’s thatched home

Further up a race track, where grey hounds did roam

At the Canal banks end, the Shannon River

Where many’s the salmon made the waters quiver


At last to the fields where the mushrooms grew

With the empty bolster that had hidden my shoe

It took three hours to fill it and we walked a long way

But we’d have mushrooms at breakfast for many a day


To end a great morning, we went for a swim

At the second bridge we just dove right in

The mushrooms we hid’ beneath straw in the field

Sure no one would know what the straw could yield


We dried off in the sun, it didn’t take long

Then saw the tossed straw, the mushrooms were gone

We did not cry, but we had broken hearts

And we wished that whoever ate them


Would turn into “Sheep Farts”


Michael Christopher Daly

Dec . 13, 2002


--
Posted By mikora to Limrikster at 1/03/2008 10:46:00 AM
Reply

Forward