Across
- 3. I start as a bean but I’m not meant to grow. I’m melted and molded, wrapped up in a bow.
- 5. I carry no map but still find my mark. My aim is precise, I strike like a spark.
Down
- 1. I can be folded, sealed, and sent, with words of love that are heartfelt and meant.
- 2. I have petals but never grow tall. I can be red, pink, or yellow in fall.
- 4. Soft and cuddly, I sit on your bed. With button-like eyes and a bow on my head.