My first four are what you sit on. The last two are never off. As a whole, I holds things together.

Wielded as a weapon in medieval times. Now rests at the cabin's side. Jack Nicholson took a shining to me, when getting to his beloved.

Silent silhouette, slyly sneaking, mirrors your motion without meeting. A fleeting figure at your feet, a follower that never retreats.

Green outside Red inside Some have black dots, some don't Sweet summer treat

I bloom with beauty, soft to see, yet hide sharp guards to shelter me. A lover’s gift, both sweet and wise, what am I with thorns in disguise?