Oh my stars! Spins with a whisper, a gentle breeze it sends, Chasing the summer heat as old-timey wisdom mends.

I am cut when celebrating ventures. Worn by girls, twirled by gymnasts. My first three, taken from man, formed to be a woman. May last three, the human structure, remove the E.

The first two, a medical practitioner; the last three, a patient’s condition. Together, a training or rehearsal, a tool or machine.

In a story unfolding, I keep you from corner folding.

What's strong enough to smash ships but still fears the sun?