Cheesonnet

OK so this was going to be about Caerphilly. Now I'm open to the possibility that this was a poorly selected Caerphilly, but in short it was a flavourless mass of fat with an entirely unredeeming texture. My friends were there and joined in the experiment and they said so too. I was so unimpressed by it that, as you can see, I haven't even bothered putting it's name in the title.

So to cut to the chase:

0/10

As an aside, never eat half a jar of olives and then run 8 miles as I have just done. It's just not a good idea.

SO! On to the main topic today - What is a Cheesonnet? Well, let us say it is the poetry of life. It is like the blowing of the wind, or the fall of rain. In other words it happens to us and around us, though it is not often put down on paper. It is a branch of poetry with very strict rules governing it's classification - not any poem can easily become a Cheesonnet. It must have words in it and be about cheese being on something, possibly with or without verses and it must have a title. G. K. Chesteron would have been really pleased to discover it.

A Cheesonnet is already a feature of your life and makes your life better. For example: risottos, Doritos, circular bread base with tomatoes, pasta and ragu, ham on toast, salad, sex.. the list goes on. It is a relatively new branch of poetry, and you can read the first ever one right here, right now:

Yellow leaves come showering down
To the red hot steaming molten ground
To a tumultuous mass of red yellow and brown 

A Claret swirled in anticipation
Candle flickers, tension ebbs away
Eyes lock, lips curl

I call it "Bolognese on a Friday night with your girlfriend"