Poets have been mysteriously silent on the subject of cheese!

“Poets have been mysteriously silent on the subject of cheese” wrote G.K. Chesterton, and I’m not about to alter the situation as I’m not a poet, but I have been known to string a rhyme or two together in the course of my hobby-turned-career.

I’ve mulled this statement over in my mind for many, many years and wondered exactly why cheese was seemingly such a taboo for the poets to do. There are so many famed, and wonderfully named varieties of cheese that I felt that, with ease, I could come up with verse that just couldn’t be worse than the typical rhymes that we hear all the time.

So here are two offerings from me. One of them is semi-autobiographical, and the other is wholly autobiographical.


A man whose abode was not roomy
Developed a taste for Haloumi
He put on such weight
That he had to vacate
For he never would say, “That’ll do me.”


I only buy my Brie
When it is close to free,
Well past its sell by date
When some would say, “too late!”
My family tends to rue
When it smells worse than blue.