Oh my stars! As still as a whisper in the ocean's hold, a giant's crown of icy cold, beneath the surface, secrets unfold.

I never talk, I never bark, But I show you where you stopped in the dark. I rest where the pages part, What am I with a quiet heart?

In winter's hand, I grow and glide, A dance of white on a slippery slide. From gentle touch, I tumble and swell, A playful menace, cold as a bell.

I hang where winter whispers low, A stolen kiss is what you owe. Not rooted deep in earth below, I cling to limbs where cold winds blow. Meet beneath me, yes or no? Speak my name, what am I? Go.

In deserts vast, a stone giant stands, with layers rising from the sands. A timeless tomb with angles keen, housing secrets yet unseen.