Add honey before: I'm green and sweet. Add claw after: I hang above canid feet. When I am on the grass, Rain will not come to pass, On the morn of the day that we meet.

I arrive as promise, not as form, A brief display by light made warm. I trade in color for a task unseen, A quiet pact with wings of sheen. I’m praised, I pass, yet leave behind The means to repeat my kind.

I appear when water is beaten, yet I am lighter than what I’m born from. I cling to shores, mugs, and mouths, a crowd of tiny prisoners made only of air. I vanish at a touch or with time, but while I last, I soften every surface. What am I?

White crystals that make flavors bold, In oceans deep and mines of old, A pinch of me, your dish is sold, Without me, bland stories unfold.

A silent cloak of gray descends, a city’s breath it deftly blends, sun’s golden gaze it often mends, a hazy veil where vision bends.