A thread-born guardian, close to your chest, With buttons or collars, it dresses your best. In colors of the rainbow, it loves to appear, A second skin, both far and near.

I sit on your wrist and circle the day, yet I keep careful guard till danger’s away. I measure each second with hands that don’t touch, or fix my gaze steady, perhaps a bit much.

Standing tall through wind and rain, a silent keeper of time's old chain. Unmoved by whispers of the past, a steadfast figure always steadfast.

I am made of wood and have four strings. A bow helps me make music. You often hear me in folk songs and lively dances. What am I?

I live on your phone and sit on the screen, Showing quick info without going in. Weather or clocks in a little square digit - Tap if you like, I’m a handy small bit.