Big and wide, view from cities’ outside. Float and dive, dry, but count out a tide. Colors divine, ‘neath the cotton disguise. Particularly at the rise and fall of life’s eye.

No rules exist within my realm-I make sweet music with whiskey and smoke. Live recordings define my name, for playing the same twice is no easy joke. From New Orleans roots to bebop flights, I'm the sound of soul in syncopated nights.

Arr matey, on land it sails, A prickly vessel with no gales. Tiny legs dash, Through shrub and ash. Tis no ship, but spikes it unveils!

I can be a dose of medicine, or a slab of stone, or something you use to watch Netflix. What am I?

I need four to be a utensil, While three rule the sea. Different counts of prongs Help to name me.