I wield the sea with mighty grace, three sharp fingers, one strong face. In a god’s grip, I rule the tide, with every wave, the oceans glide. I’m not a utensil for food or feast, but in my hands, the storm’s unleashed.

I’m born when giants meet their end, yet even light can’t escape my bend. I warp both time and stretch out space, with singularity at my base. No surface have I, no solid face, but cross my edge and there’s no retrace.

I sleep on sand and sing with the sea, hold me close to hear whispers from me. I wear the ocean's coat of white, and host a spiral that’s snug, smooth and light.

I'm not a star, yet I shine bright, with borrowed beams of solar light. I grow an icy tail when I draw near, the Sun’s warm breath I almost fear. I visit from the outer dark, a fleeting guest, a glowing spark.

I start as a bean, but don’t stay the same, I’m sweet, I’m bitter, and I play many a game. Melt me, mix me, or make me a treat, I’m the favorite of many, a delicious feat.