Remove my first and last, and you have a poetic, rhythmic style of music. Mash my body, collect my blood, put it in a barrel, and let it age. Colors aplenty, sizes too; some like me dried, but drinking is more fun.

You can attend me, or have me if you play with me. Most dogs agree.

Lush and fertile, or deserted and uninhabitable. I am a rock, or a home and often both. Many legends are made from what can be found on me.

Four represent the core of our galaxy, the generic name, not the one named for us alone. The last is an opening for an enclosed space, often chain-linked. When combined, I'm create a stable wormhole, traveling unidirectionally.

I’m planted to divide but grown to obscure, A promise of safety that’s never quite sure. I soften a stance without taking a side, Let profit or blame slip safely inside. In words I’m a fence with flexible edge, In soil I’m the line you politely won’t pledge.