In the hush of the ancient woods, they rise,
Silent guardians of the forest’s lore,
With caps like umbrellas, they harmonize,
Whispering secrets of the earth’s core.

Beneath the dappled light, they weave,
A tapestry of colors, subtle and bold,
In their presence, the forest does breathe,
A story of life in every fold.

Gentle architects of decay and rebirth,
They cradle life in their tender embrace,
Through cycles of death, they give new birth,
In their shadows, nature finds its grace.

In the realm where sunlight dares not tread,
They hold the mysteries of time untold,
A quiet symphony, where life is fed,
Mushrooms, the silent wonders of the old.