It seems to be everyone's favorite time of the day With a lemon or a lime A joyous time of guzzling beer and sipping margaritas It feels very short lived But no worries! Tomorrow brings a new day

Please riddlers, hear my woe! The title isn't just for show. It sometimes contains a real treasure: a bracketed word for your pleasure. A little lift of the veil, so to say, to help your riddling on it's way.

Nailed to a perch, frozen from stun Pining to see the fjord's lovely sun I'm in a cage, but I'm not for sale The previous owner is trying to bail Ipswich or Bolton, notlob, or what? I've ceased to be... ...this is getting much too silly.

We stop kings in their trotting tracks, We have armor on our very tall backs. Build us a path with shrubs in a pair, Then with a herring, chop the tree over there. Antlers we dawn on our helmets so mighty, But if we hear IT, we get awfully flighty.

I am a toasted, sunset-hued polygon of brine and dairy. My hollow heart is defined by the very steel that birthed it.