With my battle with cheese. I have through the long weeks and months come to realize just how much it is deep rooted and intricately intertwined with the very tendrils of my being. This being so, I thought it was appropriate to write a poem about my feelings. This particular poem was inspired by one of the money cheese establishments that we happened upon while in the Netherlands last year. I must also note that although most of the poem is my own a few words from the first couple stanzas can also be linked back to a certain Canadian cheese lover, a friend of mine.

Better Than Peaches

A shop beside the cobblestone sidewalk
Enticed us closer to its door.
Shelves piled high with towers around us
Spoke of blood and sweat of yore.

The pungent odor of edam, brie
Gouda, leyden shocked my core
As we scuffled off the terrace
Into the quarters of the seasoned store

This, that, or the crusty one on the tray

Along with the remnant in the drawer

Compels my pate to hallucinate

And the soul and imaginings to soar

What e’er my loathsome hand should find

That it shall devour

A hair breadth from a pickle rind

Or scuffling a shriveled flower

What I would give ‘bout now

To have a morsel just to taste

Only a slice then I would vow

To surrender forever that curdled paste.