Answer:
I start new then become old. Start clean but be one dirty. I usually start big then become little.
I'm a word that's hardly there. Take away my start and I'm an herbal flair. What am I?
I am a pretty one, fluttering in the pale blue sky. Delicate, fragile on the wing, indeed I am a pretty thing. What am I?
I will disappear every time you say my name. What am I?
To you, rude would I never be, though I flag my tongue for all to see. What am I?
What never gets any wetter no matter how hard it rains?