The end of my name rings of the royal, But where I’m hung up could make your skin boil! I am stuffed with delights by the dozen Or by two stinky twins, and their ten wriggly cousins.

My last four are a staple crop, Thats also known as maize, If you'd kept me away from the squirrel, We might have stayed in the ice age, My first is a simple vowel, That is not found in oil, south, or tie, I grow into a strong tree, What am I?

I have feet but no legs, and a back but no spine. I am a wooden path that leads nowhere, floating where the salt meets the pine. I welcome the wanderer back from the foam, Providing a tether, a gateway to home.

Where logs line up to meet their fate, Kissing a blade on their very first date. Turning lumber to planks without much fuss, Enjoy the result, but pardon our dust.

Nerds call me my name, my name and my name. Three other kinds of me, at risk just the same. A gunshot and brawl has brought me to fame. The answer was limited to just seven letters, what a shame...