Shining, sturdy, sometimes brave; What I deal is byword for the grave.

I write with ink when plucked from sky, or rise as spikes when danger’s nigh. In gentle hand or bristled hide, a pen for words, or a shield of spines.

Oh my stars! In water's dance, I see, Eyes peeking out, as high as can be. A tool for sailors, wise and bold, Where views above the waves unfold.

I’m easy to pick from the bunch If you want to eat me, you gotta get me naked first.

I am a structure in parks, gardens, or town squares where water rises into the air and then falls back down in a graceful flow. People often toss coins into me and make wishes. I decorate public spaces and can cool the air on hot days. What am I?