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.
There are two meanings to me. With one I may need to be broken, with the other I hold on. My favorite characteristic is my charming dimple.
What gets beaten, and whipped, but never cries?
I can be moved. I can be rolled. But nothing will I hold. I'm red and I'm blue, and I can be other colors too. Having no head, though similar in shape. I have no eyes - yet move all over the place.
Upon me you can tread, though softly under cover. And I will take you places, that you have yet to discover. I'm high, and I'm low, though flat in the middle. And though a joy to the children, adults think of me little.
The warmer I am the fresher I am.