Poems. Sir Mushroom Comes Calling.

Sir Mushroom’s been holding court in my front yard,
Wearing a stylish summer hat.
He popped up overnight somehow,
I was sorta suspicious about that.

He stood there looking like royalty,
As if he owned the lawn.
As if he paid the monthly bills,
And weeded the flowerbeds before dawn.

I inquired about his credentials,
The upstart mushroom answered with a shrug.
He informed me that three cousins were coming to visit,
Then hosted a party for royal bugs and slugs.

By noon he was wearing silk pajamas,
By two he was more than tipsy,
By dinner he was tap-dancing,
By bedtime, he resembled an old hippy.

Looking out my bedroom window this rainy morn,
I was shocked Sir Mushroom had absconded in the dark.
Apparently, he’d sobered up and flown the coop,
How unchivalrous of him to thusly disembark.