That the moon is made of cheese they found.
It's mined by little spacemen mice,
Who sell it for a handsome price.
The cheese we eat all comes from there,
From cheddar valleys beyond compare.
And in the rivers of Wensleydale,
The mice scoop cheese in metal pails.
If you peek up you might just see,
The Gorgonzola heights of Ghee.
And to the left and up a bit,
On Stilton mountains mice do sit.
So next time you sit down to cheese,
Remember the mice on Parmezan seas.
Who work non stop in their spacemen hats,
Just glad that they're out of reach of cats"
This poem demonstrates the unrecognized majesty of cheese.
Do you love cheese?
Who doesn't?
Email me with further comments, questions, information, etc. about cheese and other random topics.
Yeah.