I’m sweet by name, but not by taste, A thousand mounds spread out in haste. Brown in summer, green in rain, Tourists climb to see my domain.

I often come when least expected, linking thoughts once unconnected. Before the plan or thing you do, I’m the first small spark breaking through.

My first is a number, my second another. And each, I assure you, will rhyme with the other. My first you will find is one-fifth of my second. And when added together, two dozen is reckoned.

If yet unmolested, then I mean to line. Bring me to an ER, your stock I'll confine. Hand me an L, the laments will come slow. Touch me to string, smaller pants I bestow.

Where ancient secrets still are unknown. For birds and eyes look back at the stone. Read me left or read me right, The Rosetta Stone brought me to light.