As beautiful as the setting sun,
As delicate as the morning dew;
An angel’s dusting from the stars
that can turn the Earth into
A frosted moon.
What am I?
Only one color, but not one size, Stuck at the bottom, yet easily flies. Present in sun, but not in rain, Doing no harm, and feeling no pain. What is it?
A precious stone, as clear as diamond.
Seek it out whilst the sun’s near the horizon.
Though you can walk on water with its power,
Try to keep it, and it’ll vanish in an hour.
What is it?
An arm points north, east, south, then west.
Ever in circles, never pausing to rest.
It passes its brother twenty three times,
As the sun passes by and the moon starts to climb.
What is it?
A group of privates were standing in the blistering sun facing due west. Their sergeant shouted at them: Right turn! About turn! Left turn! In which direction are they now facing?
My step is slow, and I breathe snow.
To the ground, I bring death.
My marching brings an end to me,
I'm slain by the sun or engulfed by the sea.
What am I?
Every dawn begins with me
At dusk I’ll be the first you see
And daybreak couldn’t come without
What midday centers all about
Daises grow from me, I’m told
And when I come, I end all cold
But in the sun I won’t be found
Yet still, each day I’ll be around.