I trap what cannot be held, Bend time without a clock. I make summer out of whispers And silence out of frost. I’m seen straight through, yet change what’s true What am I?

I am designed to never lose balance, great for tiny paddlers to show their talents. I am a classic gift for littles ones turning three. What am I, that rolls along with extra stability?

Once done in dark caves, I now hang in halls of gold. I tell stories in pigment that never grow old. What am I, this beauty for the world to behold?

I’m tall and green and smell so fine, At Christmas time you make me shine. With needles sharp instead of leaves, What kind of tree am I, do you believe?

The sleeve that shrouds the hoard, Preferred to be ignored. A mist of sting or essence spent, I'm put out to pasture when my armor relents.