Answer:
In the forest, this blends in just right, but every December it is covered with lights. What is it?
Double my number, I'm less than a score. Half of my number is less than four. Add one to my double when bakers are near. Days of the week are still greater, I fear.
What is it that no man ever yet did see, which never was, but always is to be?
I heard of a wonder, of words moth-eaten. That is a strange thing, I thought, weird. That a man's song be swallowed by a worm. His blinded sentences, his bedside stand-by rustled in the night - and the robber-guest. Not one wit the wiser. For the words he had mumbled.
If you have it, you want to share it. If you share it, you don't have it.
What has to be broken before you can use it ?