SWISS CHEESE

It's a funny thing, sense memory. A little over an hour ago I heard a radio commercial for Finlandia Real Swiss Cheese, and the memory came back to me of how I was once cheated at a French Restaurant.


SWISS CHEESE

So how does this work?
Ah Monsieur, I show you

First there is le caquelon, the pot
Which I rub garlic on
Then le rechaud we call this stove
Which I will spark to light

He added cubes of cheese devine
And with a splash of wine
Set all on to the flame and stiirred
Just stirred, from time to time

And this is Swiss Cheese?
Yes, Monsieur.
Real Swiss Cheese?
Of course, Monsieur. See I tip the pot. The cheese it has the holes. Only real Swiss cheese has the real Swiss Holes.
Proof, Thank you I agreed.

Soon the scent of warm fondue
I savored in my head
And took a long thin fork which then
Was layed beside my arm
And in a basket peered within
And speared a crust of bread
Which at his invitation
I then dipped into the pot
My expectations more than met
Nno flavor had been lost
But what were once fine cubes of cheese
Had all turned into sauce!

I stared down the bread upon my fork
all covered in fondue
Perceiving that there'd been a trick
As I observed the clue

Monsieur, is everthing all right?

You say it is but I think not
I yet reserve a doubt
For how can this be Real Swiss Cheese
With all the bubbles melted out?