I'm up high, where the air is crisp, A place to relax, with a view to grip, Stars above, and sky so bright, I'm the ceiling outside, day and night. You can climb me, or take a lift, I shelter you, from the storm's swift shift, A spot to party, or just chill too, Where the world below, is a different view.

I may tame your hair With a buzz and a glide, Or outrun the storm With the wind at my side. What am I?

I strike gold in rivers without taking a step. I sweep across a scene without moving an inch. I sit on a stove, held by a handle, shaping what you make. What single word connects them? What am I?

When you go to the beach, you sink your feet in the coolness of this, or run for your life to find shade on hot days.

Weapon. Double edged. Straight to the heart. Up close and personal. Don’t give me that hostile stare.