Answer:
With four oars it swims but it is always at home. Its back is like armor, tougher than chrome. What is it?
In all the world, none can compare, to this tiny weaver, his deadly cloth so silky and fair.
A pony trots his way through the world on these.
What peels like an onion but still remains whole?
I am wingless but airborne, and when I meet your gaze tears will fall from your eyes. What am I?
What is always coming but never arrives?