Catch a breeze to scent your linens But if it rains, you’ll be unpinnin’ Stretch me out to hang up high And soon your laundry will be dry

I have ribs but no lungs. I have a door but no rooms. I am made of bars, but I serve no drinks. I can keep danger inside, or keep danger outside. Without a key, my shape defines your world. What am I?

A kiwi tenant saw their grape landlord outside pacing back and forth on the front lawn. Kiwi: 'What are you doing?' Grape: 'Just ... the rent!'

No windows greet the morning sun, Yet many stories here are spun. Iron sings and torches sway, Few who enter wish to stay. What am I?

I never learned a single word, yet all day long I babble. I wander where the land allows, while stones shape my laughter.