Answer:
Never resting, never still. Moving silently from hill to hill. It does not walk, run or trot. All is cool where it is not. What is it?
Goes over all the hills and hollows, Bites hard, but never swallows.
I rise and fall no matter what, only at finals rest do I not budge. What am I?
I'm a word that's hardly there. Take away my start and I'm an herbal flair. What am I?
I stare at you, you stare at me.I have three eyes, yet can't see.Every time I blink, I give you commands.You do as you are told, with your feet and hands.What am I?
It flows out of the soil, It burns you if it boils, And holds us in its coils, More valuable than gold, As black as it is old.