Lowliest of cheese, the cheddar, now
is hung with green, a pungent row,
and molders nasty in the fridge
attracting maggot, roach and midge.
Now of its threescore weeks, I ken
that all are gone, but then again,
of stranger cheeses there are score
and Frenchmen eat them all galore.
And since to think on things astink
is to but for too frighted shrink
from hundred ways for mold to bloom,
green I'll eat, to health or doom.