I may pour your drink, throw heat from the mound, or lure unwary insects where green traps are found.

Gliding through a city's veins, a cradle on still waters; it carries dreams beneath bridges and songs of serenades.

Woven tales of color and thread, what we wear, where we dream, a canvas for all stories, a shelter and a scheme.

I hum while I run, keeping it chill. Feed me your leftover food, so you don’t get ill.

I start out hard and sweet to taste, But chew me up, there is no haste. Blow me up with a steady breath, I stretch and grow, defying death. Till something up in the end .....