Needed to play in a waterless pool, made of people waiting patiently, a request to do something. What am I?

Two blades meet with a little snip, I open wide, then let them kiss.

I hold the water for your floor, Or sand you scooped beside the shore. With a metal handle and a plastic side, What am I that carries what is poured inside?

I have hands but cannot hold you, a face but no eyes, and I speak without uttering a word. I am forever moving, though I remain exactly where you left me. Kings have watched me, prisoners have cursed me, and lovers have wished, more than once, that I would simply slow down. You may ignore me for an afternoon, but I will never return the favor. What am I?

I hang in the breeze but never fly, I whisper a song as the wind passes by. With metal or glass, I can softly ring, A little touch makes my music sing.