I'm in lights, flames, and stars, Not a brightness but a lapse. Not a twinkle, glint, or shimmer, But from an old word 'softly flap'. Remove the first letter you'll see: with outstretched tongue I'm what you are. Change first vowel after that, I'm a school book's prison sans cloth, sometimes bars.

Out in the field, lost in thought Wars over her have been fought Immature, tears intoxicating Old and dry, immersed in baking Common lady, no princess Pretty in her cute red dress

I’m written in lights on velvet night, A scattered story, stitched in sight. I guide lost sailors, name the skies, In ancient tales and modern eyes. Not one bright spark, but many combined, What am I, mapped by humankind?

In the land o' clover where gold does spin, a twirl of luck pulls ye in. Round and round, like a pixie's dance, in a whirlwind's trance.

I wear a coat of green and gold, and sport a silken, flowing mane. I offer sweetness, but hold no grape; boiled, roasted, or popped, I entertain. What am I?