I have no fingers, yet I help you hold The hottest things that pots can scald When dinner is ready and heat runs high I step right in so you do not cry I may be small, but I serve my role Protecting your hands from a burning bowl Grab me before you reach for the heat And your kitchen task will feel complete

I make you sick. But add a letter to my front, and I become: A tablet you can take to feel ease. Or a mound of earth I could be. Waiter, may I have the check, please. And murder in the first degree. What am I ?

Not a bump in the night, it's a bit deeper than that. It could be a small creature or a even a rat! Whatever the case, one thing remains true, if it makes this noise it might just be coming for you.

Spiral ones are very fashionable in astronomy circles.

Two chambers I have, but no doors to pass, A golden river falls through a narrow glass. I never run forward, yet time slips away, Turn me around, and I start a new day. I measure what you cannot hold in your hand. What am I, standing silently in the sand?