First three are a type of fever Last five are a neat pile Find a needle in it, good for a weaver All together, find on a farm with style

A speck in the sea where the tall waves met, Too tiny for maps to fully be set. No bridges, no crowds - just sun soaked and wet, A lone little haven you’ll never forget.

A bubbly crown on your latte delight, in seas and suds, soft and white. With a gentle touch, it quietly roams, found in waves and cappuccinos' domes.

Little ones have big ears Large ones can hold liquid Living ones throw balls And plant-based ones eat insects!

I can be soup, pie, or a decoration for you front yard and all. I can be used all year round, but am most popular in the fall.