A symphony of clicks on a silent stage, Letters and symbols in a digital cage, With fingers as dancers, they create a parade.

They are Masons, but they aren’t free Candles and jam, and beans and tea Give them a little tip Or take a little sip They will help your pickling spree

Feathered friend with a waddle in stride, Sounding tales where ripples reside. In the pond, I glide with grace, In the game, take cover, find my place.

A sudden flash, a sky's electric grin, swift as a thought, and gone in a blink. It dances with thunder, but never stays for tea.

I am thinking of a word That describes both light and wit But only in a special case When there's not a lot of it