It's inside a tree And sometimes seen at night It could mean a promise Or a place for a fight Put it on a finger The one that shares its name It could come from a phone Or be made for a game What am I?

Perched on your cheek, my one eye does see, A circle of glass on a chain - that's me! Half a spectacle for wisdom's own style, A gentleman's glance, with a dapper smile.

Blessed in silver, clear and bright, I show yourself in borrowed light. I speak no words, yet tell no lie, I move when you move, eye to eye.

I might me made of rubber, I might be made of goo, I might be made of skin and bones and organs, just like you. Close it up, lock it tight, make sure none can get in. We’ll be back soon, I can not miss, Kiss from a Rose again!

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.