Answer:
I am ten little beans your look at everyday.
What has words but never speaks?
You can see it everyday, but cannot touch it at will. What is it?
In all the world, none can compare, I am a tiny weaver; my deadly cloth so silky and fair. What am I?
What is it that makes tears without sorrow. And takes its journey to heaven?
What never gets any wetter no matter how hard it rains?