I am shaped by needles, but I do not hurt. People often dress me.

I stand alone where life feels dry, A silent guard beneath wide sky. I drink just once, then hold it tight, And bear my swords without a fight.

No one can control me, those who try will find out. Some say I'm all wind, though there's more than that about. Even at my most furious, I'm calm when looked in the eye. Eventually, my wrath will pass by.

I can jump, but I cannot walk. You might see me in a rainstorm.

Lemons, bananas, a sunlit array, I brighten skies and fields in May. Not a sound, yet I’m loud in view, Worn by both daffodils and morning’s hue.