I look like a tiny forest on a stalk, Hated by kids, praised by doctors. I’m green, I’m humble, I steam or I roast, Loved by none at first bite, yet good for your life

Born of silent skies, No two souls alike I fall, Gone when warmth speaks truth.

I'm metal. I flip or spin but not turn. I make machines work.

At the start of your school day, you might yell me, These days, I'm also found under a tree. If you still can't name me, Scrooge probably can, I'm his third visitor: Come in and know me better, man!

Liquid, white, tasty. The partner of most of our meals and breakfasts.