(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.
