A solitary giant, standing tall and silent, guardian of stories untold, carved by time's steady hand, unmoved by the waves of change.

It's a trunk in the States Not so in the UK Or for your foot, comes in mates To keep dry and winter at bay

I’m a twisty, turny puzzle With lots of walls in sight. You try to find your way through me, But I keep turning left and right. What am I?

I'm armed from head to toe but never fight I thrive on thirst beneath the burning sky I bloom where beauty has no right The desert holds me, dare to try it?

You spin and twist, I stay true to my aim. Some built into wrist, a cardinal fame. I point to the tip, on your planet’s plane. Magnetic in fields, showing due, is my game.