I wander slowly, but never leave home, through gardens and meadows I quietly roam. Take my head once, and I’ll hang things for you, take it once more and you’ll feel unwell, too.

We may be blind and with a weird nose, but be wary of your skin as there can be a lot of those.

I am known for outlasting kings in sealed stone rooms, but I do not sour though seasons gnaw at tombs. You might Name a loved one after me.

Conception, I deny. I'm born from wounded trees that cry. Entropy’s child, shaped by fire. I twist and yield, yet never die.

My first three letters are an average score My last four are a weaving reed Remove my fourth for brief truce in war But altogether, a garnish green, herbaceous, bright, and a bit earthy