Answer:
A slow, solemn square-dance of warriors feinting. One by one they fall, warriors fainting, thirty-two on sixty-four.
Always old, sometimes new. Never sad, sometimes blue. Never empty, sometimes full. Never pushes, always pulls.
Round like a dishpan and smaller than a bathtub. But the ocean can't fill it. What is it?
I'm a god. I'm a planet. I measure heat.
You’ll have me at night and if you remove the first letter I denote the top, such as on a train
What did the piece of wood say when he saw the screwdriver and screws approaching?