I look like a tiny forest, and am mostly hated by those I nourish.

First three are a nocturnal menace, one that purrs with a smile as it breaks your things. Last three are a way to say family, or a four letter word for nice, but remove the d, or the last three of paper used at dinner. Put together I'm a six letter slim dangling flower, from willows and birch.

My songs travel legions I've lived longer than you Yet I ended up as oil for you

I am small, yet countless, sleeping in the land, planted with care by a patient hand. From me rise sustenance, golden and warm, nourishing lives in many a form.

I bloom with love yet carry a thorn, In gardens and poems I’m often worn. My name is past tense, yet still I grow What fragrant riddle? You surely know.