Halloween gnome named Cheesy collected black bats
They swarmed around him as if he were tuna fish cats
We could not figure it out, but it happened like crazy
Cheesy was a baker, up early, never a teensy bit lazy
Maybe it was his scones, his muffins and such
But bats adored Cheesy, they liked him ever so much
They glommed onto him every month, not just Halloween
They landed on his knees, his neck, forever with him seen.
I've been served lots of unappetizing things
that simply did not please my palette.
Being force fed with bitter or insincere words
is unappealing presented as a crisp green salad.
I would rather be underfed and malnourished
than to feast on something too briny or cheesy.
I won't feast on a buffet of regurgitated foods,
like dill pickles offered as sour grapes... sleazy.
Nothing has more stench to me than rotten food.
As an example, mold spores inside blue roquefort,
and don't ask me to swallow one bite of sarcasm.
That would take far too much of my time and effort.
I'd spit out a spoon of any soup if in it swims a fly,
or if the spices were added by the hand of a hypocrite.
A warm peach cobbler would make a scrumptious dish
as long as inside there'd not be left on purpose... a pit.
Sometimes that's just the way that it goes
Another tale of those lunchtime woes
When he stifled a sneeze
With a mouthful of cheese
He blew fondue right out of his nose
Its kinda cute
Even if its cheesy
Time from you
just feels hazy
Others;
make me queasy
With you,
it's just easy
Barn-ward we heard the reindeer's sneeze.
Smells of nutmeg and clove in the breeze.
With Santa stuck in the John,
From dusk till about dawn,
Looks like we gave Big Red too much cheese.
Cheesy fries hot
Cheesy fries cold
Some like them hot
Some like them cold
Cheesy fries in the fridge
Nine months old
Three tombs stand by the beaten path
among the dry and trodden grass,
not hewn in stone that they would last
but corrugated cardboard
each bearing felt-tipped epigraph.
The left in lower case, save the name,
which writ in gold in centre frame
wrote 'in loving memory of CHEESY',
a mouse that died last week of May
The right had 'Squeak ' writ small in red,
on Friday 5th of June found dead.
And landed there above the ground
a fly with downward facing head.
Stood centre, also named with golden tip,
'here lies BEAKY', deceased bluetit,
died Tuesday 12th of May this year.
All buried, dead, and that was it.
What were the tragedies that befell
these two beloved pets? It's hard to tell,
along with free found garden bird,
perhaps a chick just fledged that fell.
Children mourned and marked each death,
each loving crafted cardboard wreath
fortasting for life's passing breath,
a portent for much later years
when breaking hearts mourn life's egress.
I stood in the door flowers in hand
sorry, darling, I'm bad at romance
There once was a man named Big Fred,
sweet Jane wanted him in her bed-
She brought in some cheese,
Fred started to sneeze-
Out his nose came bread with a spread!
Humorous Limerick Poetry Contest
Date written: July 3, 2019
Sponsor: Tania Kitchin
One day I had a craving
For a bowl of onion soup
I opened a can -and found
it to be plain
So i decided what needed
What I had to do
I cut bread into cubes
Put them into My bowl
Added cheese pieces
Then heated the soup
On the stove burner
When the soup was ready
I poured into my bowl
Then added cheese on top
Watch the cheese melting
Then ate slowly to enjoy it
Aunt Bessie adores eating cheese
The trouble is cheese makes her sneeze
She sneezes gloopy snot
but does not give a jot
and gobbles more Stilton with ease
2/20/19
The best things that Christmas guarantees
Are the festive, digestive joys of cheese
No holiday platter is nearly complete
Without the familiar fumes ... of feet
Softening chunks of wafting wonder
Offered up aged for you to plunder
Those holey and rolly blocks to devour
So properly plump, and soddenly sour
There's no better bits for a yuletide slacker
Than great gobs of funk on a crispy cracker
And stuffing a sock or a Christmas Buddha
Is perfect diversion for a gram of Gouda
Or perhaps just a nip of Neufchâtel bliss
Bouncing its stink for a mistletoe kiss
What better addition to the bells of a sleigh
Than vino with bread, and a cheese in decay?
Or, the ideal pal for a proud poinsettia?
Why, a warmingly wonderful wee wedge of feta!
No matter what floats on the holiday breeze
It's ALWAYS out-funked by a good ... Christmas cheese!
Written and submitted on November 18, 2018
For the "Write A Poem About Cheese" Poetry Contest
Barry Stebbings, Judge & Sponsor
As I do wish to appease...Mr. G.K.
There are some things about cheese...that I would like to say
Served anywhere...on a plate or a tray
Held by tooth picks...yes, that is okay
It's delicious to eat...although, sometimes smelly
But it makes everyone toot...when it sits in your belly
It's easy to find...it's in every deli
One of my favorites...is cream cheese with jelly
One kind of cheese...that I'll never miss
Is filled with holes...they call that kind swiss
Assorted on a platter...It's one I'll dismiss
And certainly a cheese I won't eat...when giving a kiss
Another one that's good...and I swear I don't lie
When I say that I use it...baked in a pie
I use it in quiche...give it a try
Originated in France...wii, a soft chunk of brie
Past down from my ancestor's...who are now long foregone
My absolute favorite...which holds the baton
I grate on my pasta...and put a lot on
Made by Pecora-Romano...a fine parmesan
Write A Poem About Cheese Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Barry Stebbings
11/11/2018
Always cheesy
You can see the ooey-gooey cheddar
Dripping off the page
- My romantic prose
I drop my guard and rabble raps my door
Which welcomes no anachronistic arrays
To dampen the mood on my floor.
I watch on the beach as she reaches the shore
Where in remorse for me she prays
Cos I drop my guard and rabble raps my door.
Next, deep recesses in my mind roar
When on my heart spirituality she sprays
To dampen the mood on my floor.
I pick myself up although I feel sore
Gladys, by dint of pleas, my fears allays
As I drop my guard and rabble raps my door.
In a twist of fate, I dig deep into my stamina store
Hoping my reluctance Gladys no more waylays
To dampen the mood on my floor.
Tired but fired up, I opt to organise the cheesy chore
When in the end Gladys my silence slays
As I drop my guard and rabble raps my door
To dampen the mood on my floor.
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