I ask you Are you gonna be chopping your wood Or spraying your trunk?

I grow in a garden and stay cool to the touch, Green on the outside and watery as such. I slice into salads and crunch when you bite, A refreshing, crisp snack on a hot summer night. I am long and smooth with a mild little taste, A simple green veggie that is never a waste. What am I, fresh and firm in my role, A garden friend with a crunchy green soul?

In fields where clover bows to breeze, I run a Queendom that answers to no keys. My workers number in the thousands strong, They hum a wordless, tireless song. What am I?

I'm just one small part of the machine. I transfer motion from one part to another. What am I?

If you were on a pirate ship, you might have to walk this.