One way, a tiny biting fly. The other, a drink up in the sky.

A patch of treacherous ground, Where sinking steps are quickly found. A murky, muddy, sticky place, That slows your stride and halts your pace. Or, Giggity, giggity.

I live where the blue meets the sand, A tiny traveler of sea and land. I’m dressed in armor, but I’m no knight, And when trouble comes, I vanish from sight. I’m not quite fish, though I swim with the crew, With a tail that helps me escape when I’m pursued. Small, a little strange, and tasty too What am I?

I spy with too many eyes, one of the causes of terrible blight

I can be a Royal, a King, or even an Emperor, Yet I rule no domain or lands. I am a swimmer who cannot take flight, Yet I march through a frozen white.