I travel in circles like a disk. A clumsy cook may curse me as a risk, For when I'm missing, kitchen drawers they'll frisk. Yet once found, I work swift and brisk, Making things thick and creamy as a bisque. What am I?

Though water is my closest friend, our time together brings my end.

I hold opinions in place, Secure fortunes to buildings, Deliver the evening's tragedies, And keep climbers from regretting gravity. Some trust me too much before they think. Others trust me because they must. I may steady a nation, A skyscraper, A broadcast, Or a life. Yet my oldest duty Is performed where no road exists. What am I?

I hang from the ceiling People often forget which one goes on the ground I'm often formed in caves What am I?

Joints and bearings, Crystal and how it’s viewed. In the fields it is hit, kicked, thrown and abused. A hitch to extend. Rolls on what’s askew. No hogs are admired. The red rubber’s the true.