Cheese Cow

Imagine if you had a cow that gave not milk, but cheese.
And every time you gave its juicy teats a little squeeze…
Suddenly a feast of fancy cheeses would appear—
Enough to cause cheese-ologists to grin from ear to ear.

There’re cheeses left and cheeses right and cheeses all around;
Cheeses high and cheeses low and cheeses on the ground.
Cheeses raining from the sky; the cheese is everywhere!
There’s even cheese between your toes and in your underwear.

You drool a bit to see the tasty cheeses spread before you.
Your tummy speaks and in a fit of growling it implores you.
It’s times like these when one must practice careful moderation.
But any self-restraint you had is clearly on vacation.

You glut yourself on cheddar cheese and tasty gorgonzola;
On lemon-curd and pepper jack and cheesy-cheese granola;
On fontina and some gouda sprinkled with some feta;
Then pause a wink to wash it down with liquid mozzarella.

You take a bath in cheese ganache and creamy asiago,
Then freshen up with facial cheese and perfume of romano.
But don’t forget the roquefort and the colby and the swiss!
Then put some cheesy lipstick on and give your mum a kiss!

In your mind you take yourself to Cheese Town in Oaxaca
And gorge yourself on queso beans and cheese-filled calabaza.
Then to a cheesy taco shop with spicy chili-cheese,
“I’d like to buy the lot,” you say, “and make it snappy please!”

You make it home and just in time to have a little snack
Of provolone and tillamook and cheesy brik-a-brak.
Cheesy coca-cola has your taste buds on cloud 9,
“Perhaps the best part is,” you say, “This cheese feast is all mine!”

About the time you think that maybe heaven’s made of cheese,
You snap out of your dream-like state and hear a gentle, “Please.”
From somewhere right behind you there’s a voice that’s clearly heard.
You turn to see your cheese cow speak. Now isn’t that absurd?

“Please,” she says, “not to be rude, but I must ask a favor.
I’m udder-ly exhausted here from all this cheesy labor.
It’s no small job to be a cheesy bio-factory.
I wonder, friend, if you could spare a slice of cheese for me?”

“A talking cow? Jehosophat! My stars! And what the blazes?
I’m sorry cow, but cows are not supposed to speak in phrases.
Cows should only chew the cud, say moo, and give us steaks.
So tell me cow, how can you talk? Explain, for goodness sakes!”

“I’m glad you ask”, replied the cow, “but tell me if you please,
Why don’t you ask, when cows give milk, how can I give you cheese?
And while we’re on the topic, there’s a beef I have with you.
You’ve never once said 'Thank moo' after all the work I do.”

“I’m sorry cow,” you say with all the pity you can muster.
I’ll tell you what, I’ll give you this entire brick of muenster.”
“Why thank moo,” said the cow, “We’ll be the very best of friends.”
And from that day you swore you’d be a vegetarian.