Fluorescent sun, paper seas, chairs that roll but never leave.

Whether with bamboo, metal, or glass, my gentle melodies soothe as I alert to a possible storm.

A needle that dances with the Earth's sway, Guiding explorers both night and day. In circles it spins, finding north's grace, A navigator's friend, in every place.

You don't want to be up a creek without one of these.

The final frontier A place for treks and wars This one is a little wide Check the bar at the bottom of your keyboard and you'll have your answer