Around the table I may fly, and bring a laugh, a groan or sigh. Shared among both friend and kin, some fall flat, some truly win.

In the alchemist's garden, a mystic veil of the blossom, it whispers secrets to passing winds, a delicate shield to the heart of nature's creation.

I’m easy to get into But, hard to get out of.

Before a saur like a Dino, But a poke instead. A conductor of light, spun right over head. Buried alive, end of season it dreads. Phoned-in ‘us’ at the end, it’s plump and round-ed.

I have big glowing eyes and an antenna on top, From questions and cakedays, I never quite stop. I’m a time-traveling alien of white, pink, or blue, What is my name? It’s simply just