Answer:
High born, my touch is gentle. Purest white is my lace. Silence is my kingdom. Green is the color of my death.
You can only have it once you have given it.
What can be measured but not seen?
Upon me you can tread, though softly under cover. And I will take you places, that you have yet to discover. I'm high, and I'm low, though flat in the middle. And though a joy to the children, adults think of me little.
When does Christmas come before Thanksgiving?
People take me on walks and I run and have fun. What am I?