Find me at your core, Or through which an African or Indian beast would snore, Or in which your clothing to store, Or from which a mighty oak's branches can soar. If you add eight to me I sound awfully short. What am I ?

I have a mouth but never speak A neck that bends without bones I dive where hunger leads the way Yet drink without a thirst of my own I hold world in shallow curves Give comfort, medicine and heat Empty I wait fulfilled I serve I am that never eats

I wear many coats though I’m not for the cold, I make strong folks cry, though I’m timid and old. Chop me to bits, I’ll still flavour your bowl

My first part unique, it's cold and it's white. My second part round and may face a dog's bite. Put us together for a fun winter fight.

my cap is no crown, yet i have my own kingdom networks below, its own kind of freedom though i don’t swim, i may still have gills i can change your perception, dance on tongues, or kill