You'll find me in an emerald field or in a farrier's bag. I'm in the paws of sweet bunnies and on the hooves of Ma's old nag. A coin heads up might summon me; black cats might scare away. Cross your fingers and your toes and maybe I might stay.

I could be in outer space, or your living room carpet could be my place. I'm known for being filled with dust, in my fatality you can trust.

I sing but have no mouth, I listen to the wind but have no ears long and metal made of me, you may see me hang from a tree

I might look a little scary, but I'm really kind of sweet; Sure I like nice snacks but it's ticks I often eat. I keep my babies my a pocket even though I'm not a 'roo; And playing dead is something special I am known to do.

I walk with kings and crawl with worms, I end all tales and quiet storms. You can't escape, delay, or hide - I take all things, yet never bide. I’ve kissed every creature, both mighty and small.