I go in dry, come out wet, and the longer I’m in, the stronger I get. What am I?

Stalwart giant, reaching high, rooted strong in earth, you scrape the sky. From your lofty perch, horizons unfold, tales of height and strength are told , someone was held captive by me for years in a fairytale.

I coil at rest beside the wall, yet roar to life when duty calls. I bring relief through spray or stream, to thirsty roots or fiery scenes.

Silent stage for dreams to play, where weary wanderers lay. With springs that hum a lullaby, beneath a sky of linen and cotton clouds, I cradle you softly until the sun returns.

Some keep ice, an Igloo’s nice. A cold front brings this air to life. A pillow’s other side at night. Too hot to eat? Wait for this to bite.