From fancy ships, to rough days in a truck, keeping one of these avoids a clusterproblem! In the wilderness, a cabin keeps many of these, but also flashes with fire in a thing with tubes.

I grow by stealing moments drop by drop, A thief of warmth who hangs with pointed pride. I vanish quick when brighter seasons stop-- What fleeting shape am I, in cold supplied?

Striking monochrome; Agate dressed in deepest black Veins whisper lace white

a large bottle of liquor, or just a way to get a grip; this six letter word, ensures your hands a tight fit.

In one moment I’m a dragon, a castle, a ship, a giant that shifts with the breeze’s soft slip. You lie on the grass and name what you see, but none of those shapes are truly me.