Answer:
I am owned by Old McDonald.
I move without wings, between silken strings. I leave as you find my substance behind. What am I?
Only one color, but not one size, stuck at the bottom, yet easily flies. Present in sun, but not in rain, doing no harm, and feeling no pain. What am I?
Good memory, skin like the sea. A great beast I am, yet vermin frightens me. What am I?
I am bought by the yard but worn by the foot
What gets broken without being hold?