In the hold of the ship, where cheese be the lure, A snapper awaits, with a promise unsure. Ye critter of whiskers, beware the sly thief's snare, For the treasure ye seek, tis not quite fair.

I flip up in rain or when engines need care, I shadow your face with a fold of warm wear. I lift from a car when the engine’s no good, A cover in cloth or in metal - I quietly stood.

Tenebrous and no coward, she watches upward and downward. What am I?

In hills I hide, my depths untold, where rocks and stone in layers unfold. Chisels sing and hammers dance, to sculpt your dreams, a second chance.

Pear-less I'm a secret chest, locked up tight inside my vest.I hide in sand and shun the Sun,yet serve on plates when day is done.Pry me open if you can- what am I both shell and span?