Answer:
Whiling away the hours of flowers, Walking through fields of gold. Preening and pruning in lights fading hours, For petals to freeze in the cold. What is it?
If I have it, I don't share it. If I share it, I don't have it. What is it?
I do not breathe, but I run and jump. I do not eat, but I swim and stretch. I do not drink, but I sleep and stand. I do not think, but I grow and play. I do not see, but you see me everyday.
Whoever makes it, tells it not. Whoever takes it, knows it not. Whoever knows it, wants it not
Searing 'cross the pitchΒ-black skies, I scream in celebration, Yet moments later, my outburst through, I am naught but imagination.
People take me on walks and I run and have fun. What am I?