I can be a flowering thing, growing bright and gay. Im rare to find and royal, and I come out brightest in the day. I can be carried by rays of sun, or spread in pastel art. In addition Im a woman’s name, and of gardens I can be a part.

From cursed seed I swiftly rise, a spiral path to stolen skies. I pierce the clouds with greedy grace, To reach a giant’s hidden place. What am I, whose sudden bloom, led a boy to gold, and wealthy boon?

If you anger me, I can level a city. I’ll show who you are during tranquility. I am every part of you and others too. When I touch your lips, I give life to you.

A monk, a goblin, a blob, a coffin, a clown and a unicorn. There's a slippery one and a sarcastic one, a pigface and a fathead. What are we?

What has a mouth but never talks, Runs but never walks, Has a bed but never sleeps, And has a head but never weeps.