Ode to Stinging Nettle (day 2145)

I walk each trail in early spring
(My eyes forever searching)
For what I know to recognize,
Last years treasure still so clear –
Purple shoots so proud and strong.
And when I happen upon a stand
My heart smiles, my joy is found
Tis seasons first bounty
Abundant and wild
Sprung to sting my hands!
Every leaf so delicately cherished
That joins the wicker basket
(I, so thankful and forever glad)
Will nourish my vitals
So vibrant and healthy
Upon a trail for another year.

Mushroom Picking (day 1554)

I crawled through thick underbrush
To reach a mossy patch,
One which I had felt
Would bring bounty to fill my pack.
As I stared into the beast
I had heavily prepared for,
In front of me I beheld
A patch to make me cry,
A patch that was so full of life
My bags began to shutter
In great anticipating weight!
It was like gold!
It was divine!
It was so heavenly I began to fly!
Bending at my knees
I scooped in fast,
Arm in arm with my comrade’s heart
I dove, neck deep, into mushroom.

mushrooms - Ned Tobin