I think that I shall never eat
A poem lovely as most cheese.
A cheese whose hungry body is prest
Against my taste buds, Mmmm – the best!
A cheese that sits with God all day,
And learns to sit, and sit, and age;
A cheese smoothly covered in waxy lacquer
Can be sliced and placed atop a cracker!
Upon whose bosom mold has sat;
Who intimately lives with fat.
Poems are made by folks like me,
But only cows, goats, sheep, buffalo,
and cheesemakers can make cheese!
– Mark L. Lucker
© 2021
http://lrd.to/sxh9jntSbd
Okay, I confess! I ADORE doggerel! Especially when we’ll done, as this certainly is! Especially that gorgeously rich close!
Thank you. 😉
I’m really loving all the cheesey poems.
This one tickles the tongue a bit.
I have been amused (and then hungry) to see several marathon poems about cheese. I love your idea about how cheese must be patient!
Thank you.
This is quite amusing! Love it and it feels as if there could be a deeper meaning, should one sit and chew the cheese a bit 😊
Tank you. Glad you enjoyed it. No real deeper meaning, I don’t think.
Just a bit of parody.
Though cheese is not part of the diet in my culture, reading all these cheesy poems has got me hankering for cheese. I have to taste me one and soon. Great poem.
Thanks. It was meant to have some fun with, prompt wise…
Well done Sir!
Thank you.
Love this, absolutely wonderful!
Thank you, Caitlin. Glad you and some others like it.
Though Joye Kilmer is probably rolling over in his grave…