Once upon a time,
Came a dog in her prime,
Who didn’t care about a dime,
And was as sour as a lime.
Beatrix was a truffle dog,
Intent on asking every frog,
If they found some truffles in a log,
Or came across one in the bog.
Now, attention, reader, you see –
Beatrix was stubborn as a flea,
So she wouldn’t ever accept it happily,
If she found something other than a truffle leaf.
It was today our doggy found:
A strange musky smell all around,
Her senses were sharp – she was curiosity-bound,
Beatrix raced after it without a sound.
The scent trail led to a mystical wood,
And a surreal light flickering bright as it could,
Beatrix wanted to reach for it – oh, she should!
But the light faded away, as all things would.
In its place appeared a shadow, gloomy and dark,
The dog thought it was a truffle and let out a bark,
Then, proving her wrong, as big as a shark,
Arose from the darkness a wise old lark.
“What you are seeking does not lie here,”
Boomed the lark as Beatrix cowered in fear,
“In fact, another treasure is very near,
Hopefully you don’t find it much too mere.”
Beatrix set off on the promising quest,
Searching the whole forest without rest,
Not knowing at all, she was failing the test,
As the lark thought she was quite the pest.
For the ‘treasure’ had been right under her nose,
Fragile and delicate like a rose,
Finally, Beatrix’s stupidity came to a close,
Bravely, the truffle dog struck a pose.
“The treasure was always here, I know,”
She said to the flowers that were neatly in a row,
“In this magical place, neither friend nor foe,
Can ignore the ethereal, fantastical flow.”
Beatrix now lived in this enchanted glory,
A changed truffle dog that was not sorry,
Who collected truffles with no doubt or worry,
She and I thank you all for reading this story!