In a wily, woodland abode, ‘neath the boughs that wildly swayed,
There lived a prickly lass, in Nature’s humble grade.
A hedgehog of some learning, her eyes on stars unfurled,
She sought the truths of cosmos, in this our earthly world.
Her scope in hand, she scanned the skies, her mind in orbit flung,
At Jupiter with its giant mass, and rings round Saturn strung.
She pondered Mars, its reddish hue, a desert cold and vast,
And Neptune’s winds, so fiercely blow, their speed is unsurpassed.
Yet, amidst those twinkling far-off specks, her gaze would often wend,
To a sphere more close, in our own sky, a luminary friend.
The Moon, so grand in silvery glow, with plains and cratered crevices,
‘Twas not rock or dust, she did believe, but cheese of finest richness.
“A wheel of Cheddar, ripe and bold, that’s what the moon’s composed,”
She’d murmur in the twilight, her telescope then closed.
Her eyes aflame with moonlit dreams, and wisdom quite unmeasured,
She longed for lunar tasting, a treat to be forever treasured.
In tales of old and nursery rhymes, her faith was deeply set,
That the moon above, in its cratered love, was a wheel of cheese well met.
“A wedge of that,” she would sigh, “on some oat cake lightly buttered,
Would make for an eve, no mortal could weave, and leave all others flustered.”
When the clock did strike the midnight hour, and stars did twinkle high,
She looked once more at the lunar orb, with a wistful, longing sigh.
But earthly needs did call her back, from her astronomical quest,
To the cozy den and a cheese-filled nook, where nocturnal hungers rest.
Yet, as she nibbled on her cheese, she cast her gaze aloft,
A pledge made to that Cheddar moon, whispered soft.
“One day,” she said, her eyes on the skies, full of hope and yearning,
“I’ll feast upon your moon-made cheese, as the world keeps on turning.”
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