A red field's crown, A sleep of stone, A paper flower where grief is shown. What am I?

I rise without climbing, Then tumble back down. I dance without feet, Yet never leave town. Coins and wishes gather near me. What am I?

Born from a mountain, humbled by the tide I have no legs, across the water I glide. To a tuxedoed bird, I’m a wedding ring, But trapped inside your shoe, Im a maddening thing.

Butterflies lift me through the sky, Books can help me soar twice as high. Friends and wonders fill each page. What colorful journey could I be?

I am born from the cold sky, But I only take shape in your hands. The more you roll me, the bigger I grow, But bring me inside, and I vanish into water.