A line for billiard supplies or for stage directions

A tiny berry ballerina Danced beneath the summer sky. She twirled with sugar in a jar And waved her stem goodbye. Now dressed in ruby sparkles, She twirled into a glassy home Where toast and berries meet. What am I?

Born from a shell, Yet smoother than it seems. I make plain bread smile, Creating a lunchtime dream. What am I?

When the only way forward is up. Ladders, ropes, and mountains are all friends of mine.

I foam up when you rub my head, I wash away what oily threads led. I come in bottles, clear or brightly hued, And leave your scalp completely renewed.