Cheesed Off

This amusing poem is written by one of our members, Ken Blackwell.

Ken and his wife own a property in the Dordogne in France, and have kindly offered all Silverhairs members a 10% reduction off the rental in 2014!  All you need to do is count up how many cheeses are mentioned in the poem and, anyone who emails them with the correct answer will qualify for the discount – Entires to:  [email protected]

Cheesed Off!

The Field-Marshall would gorge on Cheddar

while watching a film Danish ‘blue’.

With a glass of port,

he’d splutter and snort

and curse if the dog spoilt his view.

His cheese fondness became an obsession,

Merchants his trade tried to foster

his name was renowned

in every cheese-making town,

Red Leicester, sage Derby, double Gloucester.

He’d shout for his tea, “Ritz crackers and Brie’

Roquefort, Blue Stilton and Gouda !”

His wife Rita fumed, as she brought him the tray

“Oh he’ll rue this day,

his behaviour just cannot be ruder”.

On her knees she’d pray to St Ivel

in the larder stacked with Emmental

and Wensleydale, and Lymeswold

and Mozzeralla and Cotswold

“Oh this man he’s driving me mental !”

The final cheese straw came one day

When she saw this military man

pick from a molar

Some old Gorgonzola

and sprinkle with fine parmesan.

Well known at the Cheese Shop in town

Caerphilly his wife choose the best

then to the Chemists she went, on murder intent

“I’ll take something for moles they’re making such holes,

signed the Poison’s Book Mrs L Bent.

 Rita thought a ‘culture’ she’d grow

on a piece of old Camembert

it grew blue and hairy,

in fact looked quite scary.

And the smell left her gasping for air.

She served his cheese board that night

With Camembert, Munster, Gruyere

Sprinkled with ‘something for moles’,pickles, garlic bread rolls

And spoke for the first time in years

“You’ll like the old camembert”

Sam the dog, asleep by the fire

caught one whiff of the evening’s dish

Startled: he rose

Left, covering his nose,

has not been seen from that day to this.

The Field-Marshall came to, some days later

Found a note to his shirt-front, pinned

It read “I did once love you

now, I’m not ‘over fondue’.

So I’ve left and ‘Gone with the Wind’

The Field-Marshall read the message, munching

“I’ll really miss my old dog Sam,

but I’ve escaped with my life

when it comes to the wife

So……

Frankly my Dear.. I don’t give E’dam !.”