Thursday, June 11, 2009

Better than peaches

A shop beside the cobblestone sidewalk
Enticed us closer to its door.
Shelves piled high with towers around us
Spoke of blood and sweat of yore.

The pungent odor of edam, brie
Gouda, leyden shocked my core
As we scuffled off the terrace
Into the quarters of the seasoned store

This, that, or the crusty one on the tray

Along with the remnant in the drawer

Compels my pate to hallucinate

And the soul and imaginings to soar

What e’er my loathsome hand should find

That it shall devour

A hair breadth from a pickle rind

Or scuffling a shriveled flower

What I would give ‘bout now

To have a morsel just to taste

Only a slice then I would vow

To surrender forever the curdled paste.


  1. Nice! I can't wait until Bryn and Al read this! Did you write this?

  2. WHAT!! You finished it without me? I'm shocked! Haha, anyway it's such a great poem and I love that we incorporated Gouda!! We should write some more...cheese poetry rules! If only I could find a good rhyming word for the last line of my limerick.

  3. An imposter! What strange tongue is this that seeks to taste foreign fruits and depart from the pure peach?

  4. I have to say, that's pretty cheesy, Tim

  5. haha nice comment jonathan. man tim what poetry talent you have!