A Trip to the Star: A Caramel Reverie

The trip to the star is part of the play—
Morning routine in a caffeine ballet.
Throw on some pants, toss up the hair,
Sunglasses on, like I just don’t care.

Keys in hand, world in a rush,
Dancing through traffic, the sidewalk crush.
A daily mission, a little bit loud—
But inside I drift above the crowd.

Because I know where my comfort lies—
Not in the noise, but the sweet surprise
Of caramel gold in a cup so fine,
The warmth that wraps like an old design.

I step inside, the siren’s green sign,
The scent of espresso—everything I want.
My name on a cup, a smile I know,
A moment where time forgets to go.

Macchiato in hand—no questions asked,
Layered, bold, and perfectly masked.
The caramel lingers like a sugar fest fair,
A slow-spun ribbon in the morning air.

Each sip feels like a velvet hymn,
Sweet but strong, on a caffeinated whim.
This is my ritual, my soft little space,
In a world that’s always keeping pace.

So here’s to the daily, the simple, the true—
To the pant-wearing, shade-wielding crew.
To the tug and the tumble, the golden go—
And the quiet joy in a cup’s warm glow—
To the Starbucks we go.