The path of a well thrown American football pass. A staircase that goes round and round. The shape of a galaxy important to me and to you. The cut of a holiday ham.

I've helped sell Coke, don't you know. Against a backdrop of Christmas, mountains of white snow. But of us three, the most dangerous I be. Of us three, they tell you to say goodnight to me. What am I?

In the crown of a giant, a nut is born, Future oak dreams hidden in its form. A cap it wears, like knights of yore, Guarding the forest's future lore.

Little criminals clad in black, in large groups we flit. Don't get it twisted, we mean no harm, but here's one caveat: We never forget a face, especially from the human race.

I have lots of limbs but I never walk. If you saw me, I'll fall over. What am I?