I open up when skies are gray, To shield you from the rainy day. With ribs of steel and cloth outstretched, A portable roof where shelter's fetched. Close me tight when sun shines bright, I stand in corners out of sight.

Polish me on whetstone, Practice until your skills are honed, Sheath me when the day is gone. I can be short or curved or long, Watch me dance in a death song, Feel me chop or cut the life of one done wrong.

My first three are a type of stone that's apex of an arch My last five are connected links, in single file they march But really I'm a knickknack, tagalong, for trips in cars

It's a rare object that makes the past unfold, A piece of history that you can hold. It tells a story from a long time ago, And it has many secrets left to show.

Typically made from ceramic or glass, fill me up with cereal or grass.