I sit quietly on your counter, then try to jump-scare you in the morning.

I reach for the sky, yet my feet stay on stone. Born of faith or pride, I stand alone. No leaf, no flame, yet I rise higher What am I, with a name that rhymes with higher?

Tourists climb me, yet bare feet hate me.

Look at plans before you start. Make it grow, part by part. Take your time, just be smart The best advice, I can impart.

Pick me. I twist and tumble to work. A mortise-cian needed, With dead space I flirt. A striking of plates, Bolt to hole, then its jerked. At my end, add an ‘et’, Photo kept under shirt.