In a pod I quietly reside, A tiny jewel in a green tide. A burst of life within my shell, Nourishing stories I love to tell.

A choir of whispers beneath a canopy roof, where sunlight dances and shadows play. A realm of green giants, home to creatures, lost and found in nature's embrace.

Legally grown, parts of me can be abused. My seeds taste delicious, but my liquid will discombobulate. In bloomed form, I'm red, yellow, and purple - just don't milk me. What five letter thing might I be.

I have a shell I live in water Sometimes I'm food Sometimes pistoler

Boreal majesty, Who some would track to slay, Their lucky numbers are called, Which permits that they may, We're raffled off, too, When the road strikes us down, They strip off our flesh, Lay claim to our crowns. Unfair I think, We must be better, it's true For there's no need for law limiting, How many we kill of you...