A flavor, some think as plain But brings taste to cookies and cake Imagine the taste, it shouldn't be a strain It's in so many things you want to bake.

You spin and twist, I stay true to my aim. Some built into wrist, a cardinal fame. I point to the tip, on your planet’s plane. Magnetic in fields, showing due, is my game.

In folds and lines, I show you the way, guiding wanderers night or day. Though silent, I speak of lands afar, leading journeys wherever you are.

I have a head and a sharp end, but I am not an animal. A hammer helps me do my job. What am I?

In science I measure, in earth I reside, on skin I appear, though small I may hide. From numbers to tunnels to marks you can see, one word defines all versions of me.