A silent bloom
A hidden grace,
The fungi rise
In shadowed space
From dark earth sprung
A vibrant hue,
A whispered life
A secret crew.
No leaves they bear
No branches hold
But spores they scatter
Stories told.
Of ancient forests
Damp and deep,
Where secrets slumber
Softly sleep
A network vast
A hidden thread,
Connecting roots
The living dead.
A silent symphony
They weave,
A vibrant tapestry
They believe.
From toadstool tall
To tiny sprout
Their colours dance
A wondrous route.
A taste of earth
A forest flute
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