Morels Poem by Theresa Ann Moore

Luscious fungi magically grow
Among the thick green blades
Morels… under the apple trees
Where abandoned fruit decays

Appearing after the rain…
A sponge-like tasty treat
Waits to be singled out
By seekers who are discreet

Gathered in a woven reed basket
Numbers are rarely abundant
Keen eyed exploring continues…
The orchard search is redundant

With moisture laden leather shoes
The walk to the house is satisfying
A pleasing total makes it worthwhile…
Soon in a skillet they will be frying

11/29/08