A riddler kept failing to make sense In trying to satisfy a need Forget solving with hints When writing, you might want one of these

In a bed of stones, I pave the way, Tiny soldiers in a gray array. Crushed beneath wheels, I won't complain, Underfoot, I bear the strain.

Beneath the surface, I swallow all, From silver spoons to drops that fall, When water flows, I am your fate, Letting go what you can’t abate. Yet in the realm of sound and sight, I bring many as one, in seamless flight.

Scientists, pockets, engines, and bottles have this in common with me.

I start out small and quiet, snug in my shell, then I dance and I leap when the heat makes me swell. I’m buttery or sweet, in a bowl or a sack, movie nights aren’t complete if I’m not coming back.