Answer:
Gold in a leather bag, swinging on a tree, money after honey in its time. Ills of a scurvy crew cured by the sea, reason in its season but no rhyme.
I cannot be felt, seen or touched. Yet I can be found in everybody. My existence is always in debate. Yet I have my own style of music.
We are all around, yet to us you are half blind. Sunlight makes us invisible, and difficult to find.
I am the tool, for inspiring many. Buy me in the store, for not much more than a penny. Don't overuse me, or my usefulness will go.
A seed am I, three letters make my name. Take away two and I still sound the same.
Mountains will crumble and temples will fall. And no man can survive its endless call.
Difficult
Animal
Easy
Food
Funny
Kids
Logic
What am I?