In marble walls as white as milk, Behind a veil as soft as silk, Within a fountain crystal clear, A golden apple does appear, No doors are there to this stronghold, yet thieves break in and steal the gold.

I have nine siblings, though me and my twin are the most opposed. I give my prints to exclusive clients, but I can be hard to nail down. My rules tend to be best practices.

Ruby red or green or yellow, Sour, sweet, or even mellow. Slice me, dice me, eat me whole; In stories can be magical

Hot, cold, sweet, bitter, flavored or plain I’m enjoyed all around the world in variants abound. I’m served at parties, as a daily staple and even as a political statement. What am I?

Three clues for three words, put them together and the answer you’ve heard. A lovers lament or a cars fresh scent. A program on your cell. Something done to delicious pork, or muscle causing it to swell.