**Verse 1:**  
In the heart of the enchanted glen,  
Where the sun peeks through the thicket,  
Grows a fruit so rare and zen,  
The whistle berries, quite the ticket.  
Oh, whistle berries, magical and bright,  
Eating one will bring laughter to the night.  
But beware the sound, a musical art,  
For each berry consumed might just make you fart.  
**Verse 2:**  
Under leaves of emerald green,  
Hides the fruit that makes you toot.  
A spectacle that must be seen,  
When the air fills with the sound of the flute.  
Oh, whistle berries, hidden in the vines,  
Their melody in the breeze, through the pines.  
A giggle, a snicker, a joyous heart,  
As the magical fruit lets the concert start.  
No need for shame, no need for worry,  
In the magic of the moment, let go of your hurry.  
For in the laughter, there's healing and mirth,  
As the whistle berries sing the tunes of the earth.  
Oh, whistle berries, a wonder to behold,  
In their presence, even the shy are bold.  
So let's embrace the music, a natural art,  
And together, let the symphony of toots start.  
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