Ode To Verpa Bohemica

"Ode to a Verpa Bohemica"


Verpa, Oh Verpa, you lie in the wood
In the marshiest spots under tall cottonwood

I see you and then my heart skips a beat
Could it be that I stumbled upon such a treat?

I run to behold you and then give a sigh
As my eyes do reveal the most horrible lie.

You are not a Morel, that delectable treat
But a nasty impostor, a faker, a cheat!

Alas, I will pick you, then cook and partake,
And just hope that my stomach does not get an ache.

For you look just as good with that heavenly smell,
I'll just close my eyes tight and imagine a Morel.


Yes, you learned something new about me, I like to write quirky cheesy poems.

These beauties are fakes. They highly resemble morels, which come in season the end of April. Paul and I still eat them, as many people do, cautiously. I can't wait for the day I come across my first real morel.

I found our local produce barn selling these today as "True Morels" and with a hefty price tag. I told the guy in charge but he seemed rather skeptical of me. I urged him to look into it for if someone bought them and ate them as if they were true morels, they could get awfully sick. I hope he listened.

I must go back to anxiously watching my goat now. Bye, bye...