Answer:
They have not flesh, nor feathers, nor scales, nor bone. Yet they have fingers and thumbs of their own. What are they?
I grow for a surface, even if you cut me. I continue to grow even after death.
What is that over the head and under the hat?
Twigs and spheres and poles and plates. Join and bind to reason make.
It is a part of us, and then replaced. It escapes out bodies, to a better place. The world becomes its sizeable home. Its passions unrestraint, the planet it roams.
Iām grown from darkness but shine with a pale light. Very round I am and always a lady's delight.