Last four seal a vow Together, cats chase it, meow Makes a cello sing And holds together a broken thing

I wear a crown of golden light, and greet the sun from morn till night.

On a horse I’m found. I go clop, clop, clop As I dance on the ground. What am I?

In my locket, a sunny hue, a stone so warm, not red nor blue. A treasure that catches the eye, like golden leaves in the autumn sky.

I paint no canvas, hold no brush, yet fields wake to my silver hush. By morning’s warmth my work is through, until cold nights begin anew.