Oceans of golden waves Rippling with the touch of wind Up above, a cornflower blue sky Not a cloud to be seen Until a distinct scent of ozone permeates the air Within moments, the summer storm blooms Bruised purples and stormy greens Rain pelts the flat land below

This riddle is for those of you who aren't getting enough greens in your diet. All we are saying, Is give ANSWER WORD a chance.

I herd, you cut down my green ears to stumps. I’ll never forget. Playing brass is my front. Where I stomp, I parade. Head to tail.Tail to trunk. I like salad, yes tuskin’. There’s a bird on my rump.

A myth that never burns, Dies and returns, Rising from the contents of urns.

When April rains fall in silver streams, I wake from earth in coloured dreams. From quiet roots I bloom and grow, I rise above the rains that flow.