Horses are pointless. I'm a mythical white version, with a point.

It's sometimes in traffic It's sometimes on bread It's stuck in a printer Or a song in your head What am I?

First three: spotted, blade for a bone Four more: meander, or put wheat to stone Birthplace to beam, echoing drone

What has five letters and starts with water?

The floor disappears beneath you, yet you soar momentarily, defying gravity's pull. A brief escape, a joy on springs, often seen in sports or recess but not for the faint of heart.