Toast
Awake, sleep is washed from dreamy eyes. Instincts old and new
arrive to drive the days's perspective.
I must convey that my heart sings when java, hot and steamy, brewed in
my own pot or not, flavored with my favorite mocha, mint or cream,
wakes me from a hazy dream. Another jewel of life is toast
to eat, when made just right, covered with the gel of bee or berry.
I turn again at night to the chance that I might marry ala mode with
apple pie. I could have A bulging belly, several chins and tighter
rings. Thus I end another day with wise and prudent leadings. Where is
the nearest fast-food restaurant so I can get my feeding?
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