I am known for hopping, but I do not like carrots. You might Kiss me me.

Where the ivy climbs and the falcon flies, stands a stone giant with a crown of towers, watching over the fields below.

A monster at night, stalks and lurks, waits until the perfect moment, to leap and attack.

I rest where time itself sits still Whispers perched on death’s old door I speak I leave you nevermore I wear the shade of mourning's wing And mock the voice of everything No soul I keep, no soul I save Yet poets find me at the grave

Eggs, purse, pearls. And if you’re unsure, I can help you get up to speed.