I have fins, but I do not have eyelids. I am known for Swimming around and stealing your bait .

On all eights, it moves around. It can even go on walls, all without making a sound. It spin its home, like a white nest. And some kids would hate seeing it in the corner of their room.

I rush unseen with lightning's grace, A rebel's mark upon your face. A lucky run, or naked dare I whisper hues when stone turns bare.

Big or small, square or round, bundled neatly on the ground. I bask in fields to dry and pale, then feed the beasts from trough or pail. Through winter’s chill, I earn my keep, their midday meal when grass must sleep.

I grow with time, albeit slowly. Am carved and shaped by air and flow. Men may cap me with their walls un-holy. Roaring I cover them with rocks and snow. Respect and care for me, and safe I’ll let your travels be.