Guardian of treasures, small yet mighty, turning the key is the only way to free what's held tight.

I speak without a single word, yet still my message can be heard. By flashing light or unseen flow, I tell you when to stop or go.

The wind doesn’t do this. I repeat, the wind does not do this.

Grandmothers armor To protect from spatter and sputter. I’ll shield you From the overflowing gutter.

In pocket I dwell with treasures in tow, a jangling bunch wherever you go. I gather the doors to open with ease, a keeper of secrets and jingling keys.