I float above but have no wings, I carry words but speak no things. I pop up when voices are drawn, then vanish when the scene is gone.

Often associated with good ideas, genius moments that light reveals. The answer is only half the word, more the container than the verb.

A vessel of grace, pouring life with a gentle embrace. From the mound, it sends its flair, or in the kitchen, it stands with care.

What has six faces, but does not wear makeup, has twenty-one eyes, but cannot see? What is it?

In wraps or grilled, I steal the show, a yellow delight that loves to glow. I pair with meats, I'm quite the tease, a dairy delight that aims to please.