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
If Teresa’s daughter is my daughter’s mother, who am I to Teresa?
Die without me, never thank me. Walk right through me, never feel me. Always watching, never speaking. Always lurking, never seen.
Looks like water, but it's heat. Sits on sand, lays on concrete. A play on the eyes, but it's all lies.
What can be heard and caught but never seen?
Written on with words of white, Has the color of the night, Is the teacher's best delight, And a student's daily fright