Poetry challenge

A funny thing happened on my trip to the moon.
I met a tiger who gave me a spoon.
Over his shoulder he said, “don’t finish too soon,”
before rushing off to talk to a loon.

I continued on my way;
how that’s possible I can’t say.
The rings of Saturn began to sway,
and I developed a craving for curds and whey.

I discovered the road signs were made of cheese,
so I took a bite hoping it wasn’t a tease.
It turned out they were made to please,
although the smell of the spices made me sneeze.

Next I wandered into a spell of bad weather.
A moose blew by holding onto a feather.
The air had a faint scent of heather.
I wondered should I go on, or whether

In a near by cave, I should seek shelter?
I went on in and started to swelter.
It was hot in there like a big metal smelter.
That made me want that fish, what is it, gefilter?

A plate full turned up, and I whipped out my spoon,
but the sound when I dropped it awoke me too soon.
One night I’ll finish my trip to the moon,
if my dreams are inclined to grant me that boon.

the Grit

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