An Ode To Cheese

Every time I see you gloating on plates
Showing off autumn’s colors and particular shapes
My head spins; my taste buds awake
My eyes brighten with contemplation
My pulse quickens with expectation
My nose tickles with anticipation
Dare I touch your velvety coat?
Maybe just a gentle poke
Dare I slice you to the heart?
To glory at your essential part
Dare I take just one taste?

Oh! My love, will I be swept into pastoral lands?
Meadows dressed with mountain herbs
Grasses growing rich from spring rains
Weather patterns playing on the fields
Cattle grazing in nonchalant pose
Milk spilling from earthenware urns
This is your history and much more

Your form and shape are well defined
Your texture and color always refined
Sometimes you are streaked with blue
Roquefort, Fourme d’Ambert or Bleu de Gex
Sometimes your odor is sensationally strong
Are you Munster, Maroilles, or Salers?
Then, my love, your seductive powers
Are but dulcet sonnets to my nose
Sending rhythms down to my toes

Now to taste
I take my time, lingering
Subtle, creamy, with a distinctive tang
Is this Camembert, Charolais, or Chabichou?
Goat, cow, or ewe?
Are you from the snow-capped mountains?
Or, the sun blessed plains?
You guard your secret well

But, my love, by your taste I know
Artful as you are
Cunning, tantalizing and sensuous
My love, I detect distinctive signs
In the upper reaches of my palate
In the lower register of my tongue
I sense your secrets; I find my pleasure
You are without comparable measure
All would be sublime
If only I could find some wine