Through wood and meadow the foragers run
For fruiting bodies, searching every one
Decay made flesh, delectably so
Except for deadly ones they learned to know
Beware the death cap mushroom, my friends
Its honeyed odor and taste may be your end
Avoid destroying angels, my child
Their chalky taste, their appearance mild
If helium baubles you see on a hill
Do not pick them, for those bubbles may kill
Floating mushrooms most dangerous of all
When on long stems they take form of a ball

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