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The Eighth Day of Christmas

You know the thing I really need

Hey friends and kin, to this take heed!

I love that cheese and sweet ice cream

A round of gouda is my dream

I’ll take it soured, whipped, fermented

For all things dairy I’m demented!

I know this habit is expensive

To ask for gift, I’m apprehensive

This daft request I hope I get

Should not put you in any debt

No contract signed with Rumplestiltskin

Just get for me eight maids a-milkin’!

To have all dairy that I want

Is tease to me you dare not taunt

Unless delivered to my door

Eight able gals with milk to pour

What bliss on land in which to wallow

A boon that I may eat and swallow

To have in butter, all I want

Though I’m lactose intolerant!

I care not if my guts revolt

If every meal my bowels jolt

For there is no tastes that compare

To creamy brie and camembert

So to my list I’ll gladly add

The greatest gift I’ve ever had

What joy if you procured somehow-

Eight maids, eight buckets and one cow…

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