I stand on the roof, tall and thin, Santa jumps in, then comes out with a grin. I puff out smoke when fires burn bright, What am I, seen on a cold winter night?

I hang on a neck but I’m not a tie, With every step, I testify. Clang and clatter through field and dell, A farmyard’s chime you know too well.

This is the last one. I don't have any more patience nor things to write. What am I?

You do not need this to jump out of a plane, you do need it if you want to do it twice.

A hot drink served in a cup. Golfers need me to hold the ball up.