If you take away one hand, some will remain.

I wear no shoes but leave a track, the journey home is never long back. Slow and steady is my game, though racing’s in my fabled name. In rain I glide, in sun I hide, with horns that from my head do slide.

I am married, yet I remain alone. I am celestial but not sentient. I'm lighter than water, yet bigger than oceans.

I swim in cold waters with whiskers and zeal, But I’m also the last thing you add to a deal. I close up a note or swim through the sea, According to some, breaking me makes you pee.

I start like gold but turn to silver, a wish-maker’s friend who scatters with the breeze.