When not hidden in a box, I am seated in a hole. I only move when you do, and I'm rarely found alone.

A silent gatekeeper of iron and steel, spinning to admit those who pay their deal. One by one, they pass in line, One fair turn, by rule and time.

In this cove where ships do lay, safe from storms that rage and sway. A pirate's rest, with anchor's might, where tides whisper in the night.

A guardian of secrets, Perhaps made of steel, Turns with a click, And treasures are revealed.

I’m made to travel in pairs, yet I’m famous for disappearing alone. I know your shape better than your shoes do. I’m first to meet the cold, last to leave the day. What am I?