Small, brown, and hard, Furries love to put me in their mouth, Although I’m quite bitter.

I’m a purple fruit with a dusty hide, eaten fresh, baked, preserved, or dried. Peaches and cherries are in my family tree, I have a heart of stone buried inside of me. I must warn that if you eat too much, to and from the toilet you will surely march.

Slippery thread in a watery lane, a fish that moves like a twisting chain. What am I?

One of four that make up the the year, a renewal of sorts, as things warm up a little. One to help things go up and down, it keeps the tension up, while being pushed down. Last is back to the first, but with your clock, you don't fall back, you...

After tears of clouds I softly show, A painted bridge with no place to go. Seven sisters dance where sunbeams bow, I fade if chased, yet gleam somehow. Name me, arcing hope you never hold, Whispered myths of pots of gold.