I wear a coat of softest down, But have no need for hat or crown. I whisper secrets, soft and low, And where I sleep, the dust motes glow. What am I?

Is it a dream? I see it clear A tiny door starts to appear! Open it wide, don't let it close, To let the fresh breeze touch your nose.

I have a head, but no eyes. I have a neck, but no shoulders. I can make a lot of noise, but I cannot speak. I help build, but I can also destroy. What am I?

A bustling bazaar of dreams and trade, where coins chatter like gossiping friends, and stalls are theaters of supply and demand.

The home of a night full of stars, lake of water lilies, and lady who doesn’t smile. What am I?