Like a soft crystal ball that's been soaked in the brine, No mystical powers, yet reads all the signs, Has a ring not of gold that can grow in the night And reduces in size in the warm noonday light. What am I?
In marble walls as white as milk' lined with skin as soft as silk' Within a fountain crystal clear' A golden apple both appear. No doors there are to this stronghold' Yet thieves brake in and steal the gold.What am i ?
Like a weapon not held in a hand, That stabs the hands that tried. Like armor that's worn all the time, In fields and forests worldwide. Taken as an act of mercy, From one who has his pride. What am I?
Like a snake of twisted birth, Coiled ut not to strike. Hurled at men caught in the brine, Or linked up to a spike. Stops the horse that seeks to roam, Or holds a sheet out on the foam. What is it?
