It grows in a bunch, Can be purple, red, or green for your lunch. Smush it and wait And sip something great.

Beside the hearth where embers gleam, In rising curls of scented steam, I settle in and softly stay, keeping cold and chill at bay.

I'm rounded at the bottom and you might use me to serve lunch. Wood, metal, or plastic, I make the perfect cradle. Use me to transport soups, gravy, sauce or punch, What am I? Well, I'm a long-handled ....

I'm one of four sisters, some may call me two faced. But in a game of lovers I'm half of what counts, what am I?

I have music, but no ears. I have a merry song, but no voice. I possess a herd of horses, but they never eat. They run all day, but never move their feet. I am always spinning, yet I stay in one place. I am a carnival classic. What am I?