Answer:
To unravel me you need a simple key, no key that was made by locksmith's hand. But a key that only I will understand.
At first I am a yellow weed in the lawn, and then the wind blows, and my white feathers are gone. What am I?
What turns everything around but does not move?
A precious fluid, thicker than water.
A house with two occupants, sometimes one, rarely three. Break the walls, eat the boarders, then throw away me.
Lynn likes grapes but not potatoes. She likes squash but not lettuce, and she likes peas but not onions. Following the same rule, will she like pumpkins or apples?