Round, oval, square, or any shape. I hold all sorts of goodies like candy, gifts, eggs or fruit. Woven, wooden, felt, plastic - I can be made of anything. Balls like to go through me as well.

I am not a plant, though gardens drown in me. I have no veins, yet I bleed the sky. I am countless, yet singularly blamed. I feast without a mouth, kill without a hand, and when I rule, oceans go silent. What am I?

In the hands of a monkey I gum up the gears A simple design That’s lasted for years In heartbreak or sadness I’m felt in your gut Or, grip me tight to bust a nut

in a stream of yellow I flow from the tip, a vinegarish flavor, a delicious dip. from pretzels to hotdogs, I make things just right, but in delis, I’d better get me some hot spicy brown.

Spring from the earth, But return in a bit, Safety intention? To wit, lone armpit