(A Breakfast Bard Ballad)

I. Launch Sequence

Ninety-nine neon noodles  
launched from my toaster tray,  
each one twirled with cosmic spice  
and dreams of yesterday.  
They floated past the ceiling fan,  
past socks that never matched,  
past grandma’s ghost in polka dots  
who winked and lit a match.

II. Kitchen Rebellion

The kettle led a mutiny,  
the fridge began to hum,  
the jam declared autonomy;  
no longer just plum.  
My spoon became a sabre,  
my bowl a pirate ship,  
and toast, that crusty diplomat,  
gave butter-laced lip.

III. Balloon Diplomacy

I sent a noodle envoy  
to parley with the jam,  
but jelly’s sticky politics  
ignored my breakfast plan.  
The cereal staged a protest,  
the milk refused to pour,  
and eggs in existential angst  
rolled weeping to the floor.

IV. Love in the Larder

Then you appeared, aproned muse,  
with cinnamon in hand,  
you whispered, “Peace begins with spice,”  
and took a gentle stand.  
We brewed a truce in coffee grounds,  
signed treaties on a scone,  
and danced beneath the noodle rain  
to beats of xylophone.

V. Aftermath

Now ninety-nine neon noodles  
rest gently on the sill,  
like memories of mornings  
when chaos tasted thrill.  
The toaster sleeps in silence,  
the jam has found its calm,  
and love, like breakfast rituals,  
is served with open palm.