I top your latte, crown the sea, and cushion you while you sleep peacefully.

I stand tall, a titan of time, my rings a story, my height sublime. What am I?

My first word is an age based on metal, an integral part of steel, not simply carbon. My second helps your breathing stay, without them, you would be done. All together, I keep you alive, stuck in a machine, as pressure pulls air inside.

I may serve lemonade, command the mound, or trap the insects buzzing round. One holds your drink, one throws with speed, one grows where hungry plants may feed.

Something you might wipe clean metaphorically, usually made of stone