I fill the trough for beasts that graze, or flood your screen throughout the day. I keep things full in different ways, for hungry mouths or eyes that stay.

The car often found on the shoulder, or the disk on the rim of the tea-holder.

I have arms but never reach, I offer rest but never preach. I hold you still when day is done, yet never stand to join the run.

I have one eye but cannot see. I make the small grow large for thee. What am I?

A mouth and a ropeless lever pass their DNA to a circular kid. That circular kid is me.