The wind plays me with invisible hands, I sing in sunlight and quiet lands. No lungs, no lips, yet sound is mine, a gentle voice that tells of time.

ignore the flesh, take the seed rake them, bake them, grind them, sieve bitter taste, alluring scent i paved the way to enlightenment

Im in your house but please don't touch because adults get angry if I move to much.

I ain't the sharpest tool in the shed I might see some use when you're dead My cousins live on cards To pitchfork I'm related You might wish you had me When by snow you're belated

If you're in the UK, I'm where rubbish goes But in the US, I might hold toys or clothes For the thrifty, some bargains - I may contain those