Paired up with a cat, And oh, what a sound! Four lines of her gut, All so tightly wound...

Many hardback books have one. Yellow ones can be scary. The supporting legs and lattice framework of an offshore wind turbine.

No bones to break, yet I twist and I spin, algorithms guide me, through thick and thin. I dream in code while you’re fast asleep, or swipe your job with a mechanical beep.

A swashbuckling cat wore me during his quest, To prove that a feline can be dressed for the best. I am England’s name for the back storage car part, And what a computer does to warm up and start.

I fall to guard the burning view, A silent door you never knew. I drop in trust, I rise in fear, I fade and live a thousand times a year. To grant you sight, I briefly hid. What opens sight by being slid?