Oh Romano, Romano, Wherefore Art Thou Romano Poem by RickthePoetWarrior RickthePoetWarrior

A little Pecorino this Taleggio of 'ould...

Asiago midst crumbled ruins;
Whence eyed that ancient Emmental:
Castle Roquefort;
Nay Neufchatel, nor Cottage's white warmth,
But aged Brick, Marbled red-yellow,
Cloaked in veined Gorgonzola;
Near whose mould Blue walls
Nay flower Gruyere.

Liveno there Italian noble Romano:
Not airy Swiss or flippant Monterey Jack he;
With bride maiden Pure
Whose Skim was as Cream,
A beauty beyond all com' Parmesan.

Life was Gouda;
Tilsit one Vailed Knight:
A Humboldt Fog hung Stilton air;
Horrors!
A Lincolnshire Poacher,
Camembert away his Dutchess.
Manchego!

"Oh cruel Fetas." he cried
Tears flowed Fontainebleau;
Havarti to Provolone his true love?
Yes. He would Go at once to free her:
As soul Processed by demon Wheys;
To Leyden the Trappe Veritable;
Thus send Curworthy foe to its Greve.
Brave Chevre he'll thus be shown.

Alas,
When he Cojita the Muenster,
It went Pourly;
He Pule out too soon and Doppelganger;
And so in Curds his own demise.

Aye,
Tis Lief's String that's cut Brief;
Yet me thinks however Sliced:
This Head cheese but Farmer Manouri

Lorraine!