Answer:
Four of us are in your field, But our differences keep us at yield, First, a one that is no fool, Though he resembles a gardener’s tool, Next, one difficult to split in two, And a girl once had one as big as her shoe, Then, to the mind, one’s a lovely bonder, And truancy makes it grow fonder, Last, a stem connecting dots of three
Thousands of these come together to make a digital image. What is it?
It is destruction made out of thin air, You hear it howl and give a prayer, Through barns and houses it will tear. It is a deadly funnel, Of violent and twisting air.
What is often returned but is never borrowed?
Lovely and round, I shine with pale light, grown in the darkness, a lady's delight.
You use it between your head and your toes, the more it works the thinner it grows.