I am a red city, With green gates. A knife is my key.

I’m chubby and wiggly, near the ground, In gardens and leaves I’m easily found. I munch all day, then take a nap, wrapped in silk like a cozy cap. Though now I crawl, one day I’ll fly, a winged delight in the bright blue sky.

I go before trap, storm, and paper, but after quick and pound. I’m where heads are buried, and lines are drawn.

I can swim and I can also move on land, but not very well. I can be approval or a method to show safe containment. I am often paired with a variety of blue.

I move the stars, I bring the dawn, I cannot be moved with brawn, I can be kept, but always fleeting When im gone, finaly sleeping.