I line your grin in tidy rows, but when you eat, I sometimes stow a bit of lunch I won’t release, a stubborn guest with zero peace.

A ball with the wind, A home on the go, The cap of a house, high or low, An idea in the Valley, A song on the knoll. A fit. A note. A grade on the roll. Nearing the top, so here's the quick jist: It's a gift to be perfect, but the goal is a miss.

I scoop, I stab, I enter your gab; a hybrid creation that brings satiation.

I speak in riddles, swift and sly. A silver tounge, a watchful eye. Deals are struck beneath my grin. I never lose-though I won't quite win. Im fluid wit, I twist, I slip- What name am I both God and drip?

Kings and Queens may cling to power And the Jester’s got his call But when the chips are down, you’ll find The common one outranks them all.