A velvet spread of pale delight, smooth as a whisper on morning's light. Often paired with rings of gold, yet never bold enough to stand alone. A dairy dream, a baker's scheme, found in layers of a decadent dream.

Two armies of white, each on their own ruddy mound. When they clash, any caught betwixt them are ground. If the armies don't meet, their leader dies. If the armies retreat, their leader cries.

There's no way to make this riddle not easy, I am the liquidy source of vitamin D

I wear a coat I never chose, My fingers stretch where no wind blows. I drink with feet, yet never roam, And hold my breath through winter’s dome. I count the years in silent rings, And cradle nests and whispered things. What am I?

Hairy and round A milky delight Cut me in half To emulate horses in flight