| If you throw me from the window, I’ll leave a grieving wife. Bring me back, but through the door, and you’ll see someone giving life. |
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| I am always around, but never seen. I am often avoided, but never outrun. I might find you at the end of the road or around the next corner.
What am I? |
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| I’m the eyelid to your life and hide you when you’re inside. You can draw me and you can pull me, but you must leave to see my good side. What am I? |
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| My rings tell such a story Of years past with gracious glory Where I live is where I stay From that spot I cannot stray From my home man taketh me So they can erect another home, you see Many others bore into my sides These things that crawl and things that glide I weep with beauty or stand with grace Every year I shed myself to nourish my place What am I? |
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