I’m light as a feather, yet born to begin,
 a delicate thing that lets warmth enter in. I’m gathered for when the weather turns cold, taken from nature, quiet and old. I need only a spark, a flicker, a glow,
 and suddenly light begins to grow. I can be kindling, yet mostly not quite,
 a glimmer of hope in the dark of night. 
 What am I?

A drill bit with an indestructible core... A luxury forever more.

The siren was determined to get through to the king's son. The sea witch told her she couldn't speak, but the siren quickly realized the sea witch never said she couldn't break out in...

I dress like a valentine, but carry tiny swords. My perfume starts romances, my manners end in thorns.

I’m a bubbly blanket, airy and light, on morning coffee or waves of white.