Riddles Page 7

Oh how I love my dancing feet!
They stay together - oh so neat.
And when I want to walk a line,
They all stay together and do double time.
I count them up, ten times or more,
And race on-off, across the floor.

They were made for a fairy queen's feet.
To cover them and keep them tidy, and neat.
A flower, of various sizes and hues,
Their name is the opposite of a grown man's shoes.

Part pickle, part crazy,
You can't call this flower lazy.
It perks its head up with a snout
And if it had a voice - I'm sure it'd shout.

Bound by age, comfort and zest,
The inquiring hand could not rest.
But given to her heart's desire,
She gave to us - our worst quagmires.
And so now we wallow in our grief,
And seeking to close the box we weep.
While famine, plague, and other woes,
Beset ourselves - and our foes.

Nestled among a thorny embrace,
What should I see but a small, plump, face.
With cheeks rosey red,
And neck way too long.
He'll be ripe for plucking,
Before too long.

A muttered rumble was heard from the pen,
And I, in my walking, stopped to look in.
What was this I saw?
A massive beast, hooved, and jawed.
With spikes upon its mighty brow,
I watched as he struck the turf and prowled.
And yet for all of his magnificience,
He couldn't get out of that wooden fence.

There once was a man who sang this song:
Hey! Dilly, dill, dang, dang!
He'd sit around and sing this song:
Hey! Dilly, dill, dang, dang!
"Hi! Ho!" away he'd go,
Singing all night long!
Hey dilly, dill, dang, dang, do-reeee!
He'd stay up til it was three!
On his knee he'd keep a jug!
Hey! Dilly, dill, dang, dang!
And with it he'd keep a mug!
Hey! Dilly, dill, dang, dang!
"Hi! Ho!" away he'd go!
Off to see the girls.
To laugh and sing and play his games,
Until he went insane!
Oh what can it be that's this much fun?
Hey! Dilly, dill, dang, dang!
Seems its liked by everyone.
Hey! Dilly, dill, dang, dang!
"Hi! Ho!" off we go!
Off to have some fun!
To have a taste, a bit of fun,
And be like everyone!
Tell me now, all about this row!
Hey! Dilly, dill, dang, dang!
Oh, what's this now, I feel like a sow?
Hey! Dilly, dill, dang, dang!
Up is down and down is up,
I feel so sick inside.
Guess I'll have to drink some more,
Or cover my head and hide!
"Hi! Ho!" away we go!
Off into the night!
And if you can tell me what this is,
I'll tell you that you're right!
"Hi! Ho!" away we go!
Off into the night!
So tell me quick, I've got an itch,
To have some more tonight!
YEAH!

Twas the night of the day
in which I must relay
that in which I took part in.
For the sun was out
and without so much as a shout
he quietly went in.
Twas ever so queer
I thought he would leer
but never a word did I get in.
For without another word
(at least that's what I heard)
He was back to the place he'd been in.

Twas the giantess who told me what to do.
Twas she who opened the doors,
And close the windows. Not I.
Twas her who decided the chair did well on the lawn.
And the table should be in the basement.
I have done naught to deserve punishment,
For I did not place the dog on the lamp,
Nor the cat in the chimney.
Twas the giantess.

A lazy day looked down upon her,
And with eyes barely slitted, she saw me.
I wondered if I should wander.
But drew back when her eyes grew the bigger.
Satisfied of my cowering, she stretched,
Yawned, and spread her fingers langorously.
And I, with my petite fingers rubbed my nose as I watched.
She knew I had to eat and that soon I would emerge.
Drawing my darkness forth with me to escape notice.
It would not matter, for in the end we would
Perform our pagan dance. With its rituals of sunlight,
And shadow. Of words, softly spoken - or sprayed upon the wall.
If I am lucky, oh so lucky, I will whisk away
Upon a squeal of delight - or is it pain?
And ponder the world once more, from within
The hovel, the crawl space, the cracks.
Where I live.

From sun up to sun down I stare out across the sea.
From sun down to sun up I stare out across the sea.
But while with sun up I can only blink in the brightness.
With the sun down I can blink out the brightness.

A lot of bark,
But no one notices.
A lot to bite,
And everyone cares.
I'm not a dog,
If anyone notices.
And there's a lot to me,
But I don't have hair.
I stand up straight,
If you've noticed me.
I've got lots of limbs,
If anyone cares.
I can give you shade,
If you've noticed it.
And I do even more,
I give you air.

Twas in December or June,
When my lady did swoon.
When her hair did fall off,
And her glasses were lost.
When she did scream,
In a manner most obscene.
While pointing at me,
And saying "Eeeeee! Eeeeee!"
I must say it was all a bit much,
Since no one did I touch.
But it was quite apparent,
That something was errant.
So I decided to come back another day,
When, mayhap, she was away.

This thing is many things.
It is joyful,
It is quiet,
It is bubbling,
It is roaring,
It can jump,
And it can sit.
It can whisper,
And it can drip.
What is it of which I speak?
What is it which can be both shallow and deep?

I drift,
As slowly as a lazy river.
I dance,
Upon as little as a puff of air.
I tumble,
Better than the greatest acrobat.
Swirling,
Twirling,
Down to the ground.
Where I lie,
Til I get my second wind.
So I can begin again.

A riddle, easily solved.
Red breasted.
Only one in a field of many.
Born in an egg.
Inspired to sing.
Now gather the letters and tell me what I mean.

I have four of these,
With matching extremities.
They can do many things,
And hardly ever bring me pain.
Unless I stick them with a pin,
Or burn them sometimes when...
What is it that I can wiggle at will?
And use in other means still?

What are all your fingers for?
One's to point, of that I'm sure.
One's for the doctor - whereever he may roam,
One's for the accuser - to point out what is known.
One's for the ear, without which we can not hear.
And one get's us a ride, so we can rest our back side.
What are all your finger for?
Tell me which is which, and I'll even our score.

I am a box,
Full of that which is most rare.
But it isn't a flute,
And it isn't some hair.
Though soft be my bed,
I am as hard as a rock.
And though dull in the darkness,
I glisten once unlocked.
What am I, this box so strange?
To hold such a treasure,
Which is not so plain.

The giant slept upon the rocks,
His bones, sealed tight against them.
A hoary hand, outstruck against fate's decree,
That he should thus be kept from his purpose in life.
Not knowing that his time has passed,
And that that, which gave him his reason for living,
His roots,
Were no longer his own.
But blackened stumps,
Against which no living being could hope to live.
yet...
In his passing, life found purchase.
For other creatures, making use of that which would remain,
Would, in of themselves, find life.
While the giant slept,
Upon the rocks.