With strings I send a ball in flight, or keep the whole house up at night. In sport or chaos, loud and fast, my name fits both from first to last.

From dripping water I am made, then hang like winter’s crystal blade.

I lift the heavy, but have no hands, I travel aisles, but own no lands. With a metal grin, I play my part, what am I?

I curl like bark, yet sweeten your tea, warm in the cup, with comfort set free. Swirled through raisin bread, toasted just right, I turn simple bites into cozy delight. Dust me on apples, rolls, or a treat, a little brown magic, fragrant and sweet.

In cups of tea or fireside glow, In blankets soft when cold winds blow, I wrap you close though none can see, a quiet comfort felt through me.