My first's in tank, But not in panzer, My second's in carrot And also in tarot, My third is in lap, But not in recliner If one were to peer at every odd line, A further clue might emerge over time I'm a master of spin, the best you might say So what is this riddle trying to convey?

Private oasis, suds machine, kids- and dog-cleaner, a busy parent's in-house getaway.

One wee soldier, Among the ranks, Which surround, To guard the flanks. I brace myself, As hand draws near, A little pinch, My death you hear.

I'm the last thing you want to feel when you're out and about. If it wasn't for the mirror you'd never figure it out. I'm small but pack a heck of a punch. If you look down you might spot me in your lunch.

In a porcelain sea, I recline with glee, A vessel of warmth, where bubbles roam free.