Perched on the bridge of wisdom’s gate, with crystal windows to see our fate. Two arms embrace, yet never hold, through them, a clearer world unfolds.

You can wear me on your head and rarely to bed, you can find me at the top of a fizzy soda pop, and in modern parlance, if you deceive, the crowd will perceive and exclaim me.

Unicycle is sort of like it, Especially without the ‘cy’. Single tone combined with cull, Free parking on the eye.

In clusters I gather, a midnight hue, Sweet and tart, a summer's brew. On pancakes I rest, a morning's delight, In pies, I nest, a baker's flight.

Neatly stacked with care and flair, a tower of warmth in the open air. Awaiting flames with patient grace, a cozy hearth's embrace.