I’m worn in photos, shared with ease, a silent sign meant just to please.

I'm how mother nature let's off steam, in large and violent displays. Best keep a safe distance, or your skin will be glazed, not worth that selfie on your home page.

I guard what’s precious, day and night, a silent watcher, small and tight. I open only when you know the secret that will make me go.

You dip, then write with what I provide, though I sit still and hold ink inside.

What has a head, a tail, is brown, and has no legs?