I walk on four legs and run on them too. Call my name and I may respond to you. Eight times lucky, one time damned. You may wonder if you’ve been scammed. Loving in one moment, a stranger the next. See me in all black? You might be hexed. What am I?

Golden gems gathered in fields, ground to give us daily bread, a tiny titan that towers in tales of harvest.

Deep within the mountain's chest, I offer bats a place to rest, Enter my mouth of cold, dark stone.

Stone kisses still pond Circles whisper outward, slow Water remembers

I grow on branches and come in red or green, I’m crisp when fresh and sweet when eaten. I have a core but no heart, And my name once tempted knowledge at the start.