NOT A FUNGHI

NOT A FUNGHI

Someone once told me that mushroom

Was a really funghi to know

But after spending time with him

I don't agree this is so.

I first met him at the greengrocers

This curious looking fellow,

He gave me his mobile number

And said he lived in Portobello.

I decided to call round at his house

But I can't say I was impressed,

He just sat there all night in the dark

And he kept things close to his chest.

I think he'd been eating garlic

Because his breath was very smelly,

He undid all the buttons on his shirt

And vegged out in front of the telly.

I said 'You need to get out more

Maybe run in the fields or the woods'

He replied 'I'd like to try that

But I don't think that I could.

I've eaten lots of stilton cheese

And I'm absolutely stuffed

If I were to have a Shitake attack

My doctor wouldn't be too chuffed.

Besides it's always raining

And I'd have to wear my cap

I think I'd be better off staying in

And having a quiet nap.'

So I made my excuses and left

This so-called funghi friend,

All hopes of having a wild time

Had reached their inevitable end.