a trusty container in your everyday life without this you will surely cry

I’m on the beach, Can be handled by each. Also on a grave. To hide a face.

I’m a rhyming compound word who works hard so your hands are free. Sure, I may make you look like Quasimodo, but. . .

I am a silent twin, reflecting your grin. A truthful tale, without voice or veil. Stand before me, see your story unfold, a silver canvas of mysteries untold.

A nonverbal hello A percussive greeting Welcome in the day A disturbance at night In beats of three to five Maybe seven, no further Usually one measure Persistently more