A little sun in an orange gown, I hide sweet moons when peeled down. In fragrant curls, my secrets gleam, Each juicy slice a citrus dream. Easy to open, bright and sweet, A pocketful of sunshine you can eat. What am I?

I wear a coat that's hard and brown, But crack me open, treasures are found. My brain has wrinkles, yet I can’t think, And squirrels may hide me near the brink. What am I?

The stars shine far above me, yet I glow beneath their sky. I blink among the summer grass, then flicker as I fly.

I am gathered by hand from a purple flower's core, Weight for weight, I am worth far more than gold in a store. Though I am thread-thin and deep crimson to the eye, I turn rice and broths as golden as the midday sky.

I give light and heat. I dance on a candle or burning wood, but water makes me disappear. What am I?