I may be small, I may be tall, I live where raindrops barely fall. I hold my water, spines like lace, a prickly plant that owns its space.

If you want a flower, I'm not quite there yet But with light, you might get there soon I'm your pal you know

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?