Heaven in a Cup

Turning the wheel of my mechanic carriage, I pull up close beside the menu of drinks. With my mind being set I have advantage to quickly order before the hot sun sets. Sips of scalding black liquid, I do not desire nor does my tongue want a blizzard cold mixture. Shots of espresso would send taste buds haywire, while mochas posess no caffine to measure. For it is the sweet smelling spices I crave in union with fluffy cloud-like cream on top on this caffine fused delight of which I rave, with autumn flavors whose pleasures never stop. So as I drink my pumpkin spice latte up, I enjoy my piece of heaven in a cup.