Don't judge its skin Lay it on its spine Wings spread out, flipping through See where it takes you

I hold your cards and cash with care, Protecting them from wear and tear. What am I?

Golden spread that's great on toast, Makes flavors dance across the coast. A dairy delight that melts with grace, Always a star in the breakfast space.

Leather, plastic, metal, wood, paper or even a finger will do. I hold your place between the sheets for you.

I am born in a field, but cooked in a pot, I'm best served warm, though sometimes not. I can be savory or sweetened with brown, I'm a hearty breakfast in many a town. What Am I?