Answer:
Although my cow is dead, I still beat herΒ What a racket she makes.
Flat as a leaf, round as a ring. Has two eyes, can't see a thing.
As beautiful as the setting sun, as delicate as the morning dew. An angel's dusting from the stars. That can turn the Earth into a frosted moon.
What has roots as nobody sees, is taller than trees. Up, up it goes, and yet never grows?
With sharp edged wit and pointed poise. It can settle disputes without making a noise.
Iβm grown from darkness but shine with a pale light. Very round I am and always a lady's delight.