These tend to cover entire books But only about half a person. These might know a lot about a person or group But not certain biological fathers.

Beneath the soil I hide away, where the earth and I do play. A secret keeper, strong and wise, feeding life with my disguise.

A cluster of a trio is what I like to be, If you look closely sometimes I can be more You’ll scream with joy and be filled with luck What am I?

I dance through the air on fragile wings, Searching for the song a heartbeat sings. A tiny needle is my tool of trade, Leaving an itch where my debt is paid.

I have a long back, but no head I have a flat face but no mouth I hold your treasures from books to bread But I never move from the wall