I have many applications, To assist rubber on roads. As a tourniquet temp. Hydraulic helper for loads. Building me can be deadly, Something often explodes. Unless your vessel’s the lesser, Twenty thousand leagues below.

A steamy companion in a porcelain cup, whispers of leaves in hot water's embrace, often shared with a biscuit's crunchy grace.

My vines grow in your house A gourd grows on the vine My flowers come in many colours I bloom brightest at night

Nose to stone, Wearing smooth, Casting sparks, Dirty moves?

Your nose, your eyes, your tap, your fridge, your car, your clock, a river under the bridge. None have legs, yet they all do this.