Not maple or oak But of the same kind When you think of me Keep Christmas in mind My wood is real soft My needles are fine Don’t call me a spruce Cuz my name is

A soft blanket from the heavens, cold kiss upon the nose, dancing in the winter's breath, quietly covering the world in white.

I wear a tuxedo, but attend no ball. I fly underwater, defying gravity's call. On icy stages, I waddle and stand tall. What am I?

Gem of yellow, oft tied to the sun, celebrated in Autumn, before winter comes.

I'm a sound to be reckoned with, hear the heavens bellow, Lightning might not strike twice, but you can hear me echo, If I'm far away you might just hear a low rumble, If I'm quite close, things on your walls might tumble