Two blades you should have with me to guide me, enclosed you'll feel at home. safely through rapids, don't capsize. I'm a simple aquatic palindrome.

I can so small that I'm an edible medicine. I can be so large that I'm used as a computer. I can be made of stone to hold religious law. Or I can be made of wood to help you write.

I’m a fiery little cave with a strict diet of mud and clay. Artists whisper, Please don’t crack!

Folded by day, by night I reign, a uniform for sleep’s domain. Spell me one way here or there, either way, I’m bedtime wear.

A liquid cloak for walls to wear, Brightens spaces with a flair, With every stroke, new stories bare, A coat of magic, rich and rare.