I wear a shell, but I am no turtle, I can be beaten, but never defeated. The lore of my fall became a legendary tale, Yet no king’s men could ever put me back together.

Made for champions, though runners up get me too. Sometimes everyone gets one, consolation included. Prize may fit, but that is not my name. Call me a cup, a ring, or something earned in the game.

This zesty delight, makes pies and teas taste just right. Though sour as a grumpy heart, it brings sunshine to a tasty tart.

My rings tell my age, though I cannot speak, you’ll find me in furniture, sturdy and sleek.

Born in the dark of a silent sea, A speck of dust is the start of me. Wrapped in ribbons of glossy white, I leave the ocean to capture light. No diamond's spark, no ruby's gleam, I shine as soft as a nighttime dream. A hidden treasure, a precious prize, Kept in a shell till I meet your eyes