Answer:
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.
What can be forever wound up but never annoyed?
Who is that with a neck and no head, two arms and no hands? What is it?
Men have one, women two, and when they become family, itβs three. What is it?
Stealthy as a shadow in the dead of night, cunning but affectionate if given a bite. Never owned but often loved. At my sport considered cruel, but that's because you never know me at all.
When is it bad luck to see a black cat?