I bloom with layers of velvet, my scent is a treat, yet I come with a warning, for I am not sweet.

You may lie on me as I am your seat I keep you off the ground, even your feet Although of my kind there are differing sorts I prefer it when trees are my supports

I can be hot, cold, moist, dry. I can cry, and and throw a tantrum, lay ruin like an act of God. You ask how I am, in meaningless small conversations, but I am constantly in your life. What am I?

I am 'of stars' that you may stare at from atop me. I am 'of snow' that you may hide from beneath me. I am 'of silence' that remains when you take me to bed at night.

I lay all day in the sun. A broken nose I have and a tail of a lion