Answer:
Alight or in dark, my face is a leer. In a field with my brothers, you’ll find me without bother, For that autumn day is mine.
The leaves are on the fruit, the fruit is on the leaves. What is it?
I am a food made from the pressed curds of milk. I come in American, swiss, sharp and many other flavors. What am I?
A toasty and crunchy cereal would be pointless without this spice.
There was a little heart inside a little white house, which was inside a little yellow house, which was inside a little brown house, which was inside a little green house.
What is it that makes tears without sorrow. And takes its journey to heaven?