Written on with words of white, Has the color of the night, Is the teacher's best delight, And a student's daily fright.
You have to travel far before you turn it over. What is it?
You have it even if there is none.
You get one if you miss one at golf.
You answer me, although I never ask you questions. What am I?
You deal with them and they deal chance, They show you your future at a glance. You play them and they play you back, And win or lose, They go back in their pack.
Within passion's fruit the will be found, and more of them in the pomegranate's crown. Rowed they are within an apple's core, yet other fruits have them more. And though the nectarine has but one, still, this is all just in fun. Playing hide and seek- a children's game. Finding out each player is just the same.
With pointed fangs it sits in wait, With piercing force it doles out fate, Over bloodless victims proclaiming its might, Eternally joining in a single bite.
You roll it or you buy it, People say you shouldn't try it, Because you may get a stroke, From inhaling all that smoke.
Who spends the day at the window, goes to the table for meals and hides at night?
You can draw me, fire me or fill me in.
You heard me before, Yet you hear me again, Then I die, Until you call me again.