I spun a yarn, an epic saga, a story told, though questionably able. Think of a cat and what they chase; I’ll accept either spelling, out of haste.

I am one word, but many meanings can be heard. I grace the neck of gents and I decorate pretty presents. Pointy sticks through the air I send, and I show respect with a forward bend.

I should fit in your pocket, but I'm more likely to swing and jingle.

Most of us are metalheads. Banging our bushy hair, we beat your eggs and whip cream with flair.

Slip and slide I need a rope. If without just don't drop me!