Whether you like mozzarella
Or “anything, as long as its yella”
If you say thank-a-you and please
Then come on down and have some cheese!
We’ve got cheese from cows and goats,
From naked sheep and sheep with coats,
From pigs and deer and even moles.
How much? Bowls and bowls and bowls!
It tastes like heaven. You can check!
It makes the hairs stand on your neck.
And if you melt it… oh, where to begin!
Oh, wait, sorry… you’re vegan…
Were I a can of cheese
Sitting softly on the shelf
I would live a peaceful life,
Like a stereotypical fantasy elf.
I would not fear to be consumed,
Nor to expire or lose my hair.
I would be orange and insubstantial,
Pressured only by compressed air.
And then one fateful afternoon
Should someone spread me out
And eat me, I can surely say
I’ll probably make them pout.
Yes, the life of cheese-in-a-can
Is an underrated goal:
Such is my conclusion.
I hope you found this droll.
When all was young
In the beginning
There was a big cheese
And we called it a king.
But the cheese was too big
For the peasants’ humble stomachs.
Though they had many plans
The situation continued to flummox.
So they cut up the king,
(Figuratively, of course)
And imposed their own rule
Through riot-based force.
Instead of a king
Who can do as he pleases
They had a republic
Of many smaller cheeses.
Yes, the peasants were the first
Of the modern free-staters.
They made cheeses smaller
And, thus, the cheese grater.
The world is really beautiful
But doesn’t have enough
Cheese-based lukewarm beverages
(And generally lukewarm-cheese stuff).
Blessed are the cheesemakers
Who turn milk into gold
By putting it in barrels
‘Til it’s really, really old
(And occasionally covered in mold).
Blessed are the coffee roasters
Who make heaven out of beans.
They harvest the energy of life
Among the coffee greens.
(To top it off, their uniform is partially blue jeans).
Blessed are the chocolatiers
Who shape, box, and decant.
For them my praise has no end,
And neither does my rant.
(Their uniform also includes a form of denim pant).
Blessed are the ice cream men,
And ice cream women too.
They make a food that’s wonderful,
And you don’t even have to chew!
(It seems that most good things in life come from the things that moo).
Blessed are the liposuctionists
Who make the other four
A possibility, and let
Me eat enough for four.
(And now my sermon is complete. No go and eat some more).