When puddles linger where the rain has fled, And fields are soft beneath your tread, Frogs hide in my quiet halls, Roots creep within my walls, I’m the earth’s clay blanket, thick and spread.

I look like ground but act like glue, each struggle only pulls you through. In mud or plans, I slow desire, step once in me, and you may tire.

I’m a mammal in water, opposite a fish out of sea, I’m super smart, but please leave me be. I speak without words, ride waves like a game, With a smile you can’t borrow and a wild, ocean name.

Without my first, I cover shiny skulls. Without my first and second, I'm an abbreviation, I guess. And as a whole, I'm a small, young part of the lungs of the world.

The stone is darker than midnight, it may be carved with marbled white stories. Made for strength and protection, this geological darkness is also a Pokemon.