Food with a mind of their own :)!
********************

Ron always was a little queasy,
a little sneezy,
a little cheesy.
Mac, hard and brittle, was quite hollow,
her pallor sallow,
she loved to wallow.
Together they are a tasty dish.
Still,
Mac preferred fish
so she made a wish.
Wished Ronnie’d turn into bass
but he turned out rash,
more donkey than bass.
She dreamt Ronnie became scarlet wine;
he dangled, on vine,
encrusted with slime.
She thought as tomato, he’d be sweet,
‘twas squished by big feet,
pureed to eat.
She wished him garlic,
was chopped up and minced.
Poor Ronny ached, winced.
Put off by his color and stench,
she gave him an inch, Ronny ran.
All cheeses can.
Wed, they accepted differences.
Mac’s the Princess--he’s apprenticing.
Loving commences.
A team of sorts—though both aren’t yellow—
he’s aged, not mellow.
Still … he’s her fellow.

It’s Mac ‘a Ronny for all times!