From crashing seas or garden hose, from perfume mist upon your clothes. I scatter drops that drift away, what am I that floats this way?

I sit, I twiddle, my thumbs hand in hand, with nothing to do, nowhere to go, I drift in my home.

You can find a tempest in it Or pekoe Or oolong Or rooibos Steep and serve

Guardian of new places, grip my brass Twist me 'round and through the threshold pass. To where in the world? You'll soon see, but only if you possess the key.

ANSWER pie ANSWER tree Redbulls new flavor ANSWER Sakura ANSWER turnover ANSWER chapstick