This golden goodness is made from milk. There's also the peanut, almond and apple kind, sweet and soft as silk. The ayurvedic variety is called ghee. And did you know Tibetans put the yak-version in their tea?

In the depths where giants swoon, a spear of steel meets the moon. From ship to sea, its journey's soon, piercing waves with its pointed tune.

The potter shapes with careful hand, a spinning wheel at their command. But soft and damp will never last, I finish what their fingers cast. Through patient heat, I seal the art, what am I that plays this part?

A whisper of steel, through a loaf it will glide, Dividing the whole, revealing the inside. A wedge of a pie or a cake, you'll see, A portioned piece, just perfect for tea.

On doors I turn, on radios too, a simple twist is all you do. I open rooms or change a tone what am I you turn on your own?