Rhyming Riddles

It doesn't live within a house, nor does it live without.
Most will use it when they come in, and again when they go out.

I'm in a box, full of that which is most rare.
But I'm not a flute, and I'm not some hair.
Though soft be my bed, I'm as hard as a rock.
While dull in the dark, I glisten once unlocked.

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.

Black we are and much admired,
Men seek us if they are tired,
We tire the horse, comfort man,
Guess this riddle if you can.

They took me from my mother's side where I was bravely bred
and when to age I did become they did cut off my head.
They gave to me some diet drink that often made me mad
but it made peace between two kings and made two lovers glad.

Found in pizza but also the sky.
You'll know I'm around when I'm close by.
What am I?

A leathery snake,
With a stinging bite,
I'll stay coiled up,
Unless I must fight.
What am I?

Two legs I've got,
Which never walk on ground;
But when I go or run,
One leg turns round.

A mysterious, fantastic creature,
It has one defining feature,
And for humans at their worst,
In their eyes it's just a horse.

I bubble and laugh
And spit water in your face.
I am no lady,
And I don't wear lace.

Passed from father to son and shared between brothers,
its importance is unquestioned though it is used more by others.

This is the second largest planet
And has over 50 moons in its orbit
The reason it’s recognizable
Is because of all the rings surrounding it

Early ages the iron boot tread,
With Europe at her command.
Through time power slipped and fled,
'til the creation of new holy land.
Who am I?

It is a cat but not a kitty,
You'll never catch on in a city.
Its fangs are huge and so its claws,
A death machine with paws and jaws.
In its own way a royal fellow,
Striped with black and clothed in yellow.

Sometimes it glitters, but often not;
May be cold, or may be hot!
Ever changing though the eye can't measure,
concealed within are many treasures.
Some find safety beneath its gate,
while some may die beneath its weight!
Old and broken, it brings forth life.

My coat keeps me safe
From damage that's near.
I cause you happiness, sadness,
Anticipation and fear.
On the outside, I am put under judgment of price.
But my insides have far more value
That not even MONEY can suffice.

What points the way without a hand.
It floats on water but exists on land?

All about the house, with his lady he dances,
yet he always works, and never romances.
Who is it?

Ancient and majestic, great big piles of stones,
Used to encase both riches and bones.
Seen from certain angles,
They look like big triangles.

Though I do not speak, I oft impart
The secret wishes of the heart;
I may deceive, may make amends,
May create foes, and yet make friends.
The harshest anger I can disarm,
Such is the power of my charm.

This mother comes from a family of eight,
Supports her children in spite of their weight,
Turns around without being called,
Has held you since the time you crawled.

I'm not the sort that's eaten, I'm not the sort you bake,
Don't put me in an oven; I don't taste that great,
But when applied correctly, around me you will find,
Problems are so simple when my digits come to mind.

Man of old, it is told would search until he tired,
not for gold, ne'er be sold, but what sought he was fire.
Man today, thou mayst say, has quite another aim,
in places deep, he did seek, to find me for his gain!

I am the man who went one day on top of a Joppa house to pray.
And while I waited for my meat, I dreamed I saw a great big sheet.
Let down from heaven and inside, fowls and creeping things did ride.
The one who prayed was told to eat, for God had cleansed this “common” meat.
Who am I?

A three-letter word I'm sure you know,
I can be on a boat or a sleigh in the snow,
I'm pals with the rain and honor a king,
But my favorite use is attached to a string.
What am I?

My voice is tender, my waist is slender and I'm often invited to play.
Yet wherever I go, I must take my bow or else I have nothing to say.
What am I?

What has roots that nobody sees,
Is taller than trees,
Up, up it goes,
Yet it never grows?

It's in your hand though you cannot feel it.
Only you and time can reveal it.

It was a tradition long ago,
When the world was dark and full of woe.
When men turned darkness into light,
By mixing, melting and decanting in the night,
To seek for youth and gold and riches,
Just to be burned as witches.

With my pair I should be,
But I am usually alone you see,
For a monster always eats me.
Do you know what I must be?

Reaching stiffly for the sky, I bare my fingers when its cold.
In warmth I wear an emerald glove and in between I dress in gold.

I cannot be other than what I am,
Until the man who made me dies,
Power and glory will fall to me finally,
Only when he last closes his eyes.

A time when they're green. A time when they're brown.
But both of these times, cause me to frown.
But just in between, for a very short while.
They're perfect and yellow. And cause me to smile.

Faster than a twitch!
Fly with me to the Pitch!
With a seeker, a keeper,
Or a chaser, a beater,
Wizard or witch;
I play a mean game of Quidditch.
What am I?

Sometimes dark and sometimes bright,
I make my way among twinkling lights.
Seas and oceans obey my call,
yet mountains I cannot move at all.
My face is marred and gray,
but I'm majestic anyway.
What am I?

I am born in fear, raised in truth,
And I come to my own in deed.
When comes a time that I'm called forth,
I come to serve the cause of need.

My mother is water and my brother the sky.
I am grey when wet but white when dry.
What am I?

My first is in some but not in all.
My second is into but not in tall.
My third in little but no in big.
My fourth in port but not in pig.
My whole is made in nature's way.
For clothing, rugs used every day.

I have joy in bringing two together, but darning my existence!
My life hangs by a thread, filled with ups, downs and resistance!

I am killer of trees but people need me.
I can be blown away by a breeze
and I have been here since ancient Greece.
What am I?

I stare at you, you stare at me.
I have three eyes, yet can't see.
Every time I blink, I give you commands.
You do as you are told, with your feet and hands.
What am I?

My first, though water, cures no thirst,
My next alone has soul,
And when he lives upon my first,
He then is called my whole.

It flows out of the soil,
It burns you if it boils,
And holds us in its coils,
More valuable than gold,
As black as it is old.

Large as a mountain, small as a pea,
Endlessly swimming in a waterless sea.
What am I?

I can bring back the dead and a tear to your eye.
A stir of emotions will follow close by.
What am I?

I enclose you in darkness but allow you to see many things.
If you resist me, you're likely to get rings.
What am I?

Useful tool for who in darkness dwell.
Within you, corrupting like a deadly spell.

The part of the bird, that is not in the sky,
Which can swim in the ocean and always stay dry.
What is it?

I lack much reason, but often rhyme,
And require logic to pass the time,
To get the words to tell your kin,
Look for clues that lie within,
Though all are different, they act the same,
The answer is practically in the name.

Thirty white horses on a red hill,
First they champ,
Then they stamp,
Then they stand still.

There's no reason to fear
If you see me lurking here
Even though I shouldn't exist
But few might have missed
That I'm not at all real
Because nothing can conceal
The fact that I'm something
That's not at all living
What am I?

I can generate fear
and some say I come out of your ears.
I am as quiet as a mouse
but not welcomed in the house. What am I?

Never resting, never still.
Moving silently from hill to hill.
It does not walk, run or trot.
All is cool where it is not.

I am a tale in children's minds.
I keep their secrets and share them inside.
I blur their thoughts into fantasies kept
Like a canvas of art or a submarine depth.
Though an illusion, it occurs every night;
I give them a fantasy, I give them a fright.
Nor good or bad, but always nigh'
It's interesting to tell.
What am I?

A warrior amongst the flowers, he bears a thrusting sword.
He uses it whenever he must, to defend his golden hoard.

It holds most knowledge that has ever been said.
But is not the brain, is not the head.
To feathers and their masters, it's both bane and boon.
One empty, and one full.

My children are near and far.
No matter that I know where they are.
The gift I give them make their day.
But if I were gone they would wander away.

It is by nature, soft as silk;
A puffy cloud, white as milk;
Snow tops this tropical crop;
The dirtiest part of a mop.

We are little airy creatures,
all of different voice and features,
one of us in glass is set.
One of us you'll find in jet.
Another you may see in tin.
And the fourth a box within.
If the fifth you should pursue,
it can never fly from you.
What are we?

It starts at the earth's end and brink,
Filled with water you can't drink.
Has a color, just like ink,
Walk into it and you'll sink.
What is it?

Never ahead, ever behind, yet flying swiftly past;
For a child I last forever, for adults I'm gone too fast.

It gets passed among men and builds without growing.
It serves to injure from a source unknowing.
What is it?

Without me where would you be?
I am not your eyes, but I help you see.
What am I?

It can be in a hat, Or out of the bag.
If you see it you'll be smitten, 'Cause it's fluffy like a mitten.

Strip the skin under my skin, and my flesh you'll reveal.
It tastes sweet and tart, now throw out the peel.
What is it?

My tines be long, my tines be short.
My tines end ere, my first report.
What am I?

My first is in window but not in pane.
My second's in road but not in lane.
My third is in oval but not in round.
My fourth is in hearing but not in sound.
My whole is known as a sign of peace.
And from Noah's ark won quick release.

I end and begin the day,
Without me, you'll pay.
With the aid of sheep,
All my benefits you shall reap.
If I make you miss class,
You shall not pass!
What am I?

Stealthy as a shadow in the dead of night,
cunning but affectionate if given a bite.
Never owned but often loved.
At my sport considered cruel,
but that's because you never know me at all.

You seek it out, when your hunger is ripe.
It sits on four legs, and smokes a pipe.

It's a symbol and a fruit,
For man's folly, evil's root.
But also for great inspiration,
and famous application.

What do you do with a dead chemist?

I'm not man's best friend, I'm their enemy,
I can mark your end, yet you do not see me,
I am very small, but very tough,
If you have me, then you have it rough.

My tail is long, my coat is brown,
I like the country, I like the town.
I can live in a house or live in a shed,
And I come out to play when you are in bed.
What am I?

Sometimes it's silver but also gold.
Printed on paper it's a treasure to hold.
What is it?

I have legs but seldom walk;
I backbite many but never talk;
I seek places that can hide me
because those that feed me cannot abide me.

Only one color, but not one size.
Stuck at the bottom, yet easily flies.
Present in sun, but not in rain.
Doing no harm, and feeling no pain.

Shared between two;
Most often to woo;
Sometimes hot and sometimes cold;
The beginning of us all, young and old.

A dragon's tooth in a mortal's hand,
I kill, I maim, I divide the land.

Some live in me, some live on.
And some shave me to stride upon.
I rarely leave my native land.
Until my death I always stand.
High and low I may be found.
Both above and below ground.

I have palms but not on hands,
I offer foods from distant lands,
When at my peak you'll see me smoke,
I'm famous for my friendly folk,
My flowers grow and yet they lay,
There's fire where a man will play.
What am I?

Armless, legless, I crawl around when I'm young.
Then the time of changing sleep will come.
I will awake like a newborn, flying beast,
'till then on the remains of the dead I feast.

They can be long or short;
they can be grown or bought;
they can be painted or left bare;
they can be round or square.

This has no beginning, middle or end,
and all the greatest thinkers see it but can't comprehend.
What is it?

What has wings, but can not fly.
Is enclosed, but can outside also lie.
Can open itself up, Or close itself away.
Is the place of kings and queens,
And doggerel of every means.
What is it upon which I stand?
Which can lead us to different lands.

Thirty men and ladies two,
gathered for a festive do;
Dressed quite formal, black and white;
soon movement turned to nasty fight.

I make you weak at the worst of all times.
I keep you safe, I keep you fine.
I make your hands sweat.
And your heart grow cold.
I visit the weak,
but seldom the bold.

Although a human shape I wear,
Mother I never had;
And though no sense nor life I share,
in finest silks I'm clad.
By every miss I'm valued much,
beloved and highly prized;
still my cruel fate is such
by boys I am often despised.

A flash of light on a grey day.
If you're made of metal, you best stay away.
What am I?

People are hired to get rid of me.
I'm often hiding under your bed.
In time I'll always return you see.
Bite me and you're surely dead.

They keep secrets locked away.
And you pass through them each day.
For each one there is a key,
They respond to sesame.

I am the third from a sparkle bright,
I thrive throughout the day and night.
Deep in the path of a cows white drink.
I've had thousands of millions of years to think.
But one of my creatures is killing me.
And so the question I ask to thee,
is who am I?

Flat as a leaf, round as a ring. Has two eyes, can't see a thing.

With sharp edged wit and pointed poise.
It can settle disputes without making a noise.

I am good at concealing what's real and hide what's true.
Sometime, I bring out the courage in you!
What am I?

An outcome already written,
Fight it and you'll be smitten.
By it you may be blessed,
Or put up to the test,
And take you places you'd have never guessed.

As I was going through a field of wheat,
I found something good to eat;
It wasn't fish or flesh or bone;
I kept it till it ran alone.

You saw me where I could not be.
Yet, often you see me.
What am I?

I can be quick and then I'm deadly,
I am a rock, shell and bone medley.
If I was made into a man, I'd make people dream,
I gather in my millions By ocean, sea and stream.

You fill it and it empties,
A metaphor for plenty,
Depending on what half you see,
It's either full or empty.
What is it?