Cafe Plume

At Café Plume, where clocks dissolve

And teaspoons hum in minor resolve,

Croissant skeletons, crisp and curled,

Debate the ethics of jam in a parallel world.

One stirs his mocha with a violin string,

Another sips dreams from a porcelain wing.

Their flaky skulls wear monocles of brie,

Discussing quantum toast and existential tea.

Naturaly sourced Breakfast

Cafe Plume sources its organic coffee and croissants from Breakfast Valley.

Three croissant stallions, crisp and bold,

Gallop by coffee, dark and cold.

Strawberry trees in marmalade bloom,

Whistle sweet jazz in breakfast’s room.

Their flaky manes catch morning’s gleam,

Racing through steam like a pastry dream.

And somewhere beyond that buttery bend

A flamingo barista awaits to blend.