Answer:
Looks like water, but it's heat. Sits on sand, lays on concrete. A play on the eyes, but it's all lies.
My prefix is food. My suffix is rude. My infix comes in rounds. I keep you off the ground. What Am I?
Autumn leaves and bad bowlers wreak havoc on this
Whiling away the hours of flowers, Walking through fields of gold. Preening and pruning in lights fading hours, For petals to freeze in the cold. What is it?
Round like a dishpan and smaller than a bathtub. But the ocean can't fill it. What is it?
What did the baby corn say to its mother?