A poet’s wish: to be like some valley cheese, local but prized elsewhere.
—W.H. Auden

I wish I were some valley cheese,
Reclining equally at ease
On cutting board or crystal plate,
In ballrooms or a country breeze.

Farmers, clerks and heads of state
Would call my pungent ripeness great.
While poets strained to "make it new,"
I'd age, complacent and sedate.

If I could be a Danish Blue,
A Wensleydale or Waterloo,
A wheel of Brie or Camembert,
I'd never get a bad review,

Just nestle on a slice of pear,
A Cheshire grin without a care,
A by-your-leave or if-you-please.
If only I could be a cheese!