I write with ink when plucked from sky, or rise as spikes when danger’s nigh. In gentle hand or bristled hide, a pen for words, or a shield of spines.

I’m easy to pick from the bunch If you want to eat me, you gotta get me naked first.

An onomatopoeic word, perfection in a name. Imagine dropping something, you hear it land, now name that sound.

I hold your books, I hold your elf. When I am made of flat rock, you call me continental.

Paul Simon said you can call him the first two Guevara went by the middle three Final two, a possessive for me All together try to make base in to noble