195 Rhyming Riddles With Answers
A rhyming riddle is built to be spoken. The rhythm carries the clue, and the rhyme at the end of the line is often the thing that gives the answer away - or hides it.
These are the best riddles for reading to younger children, because the verse holds their attention through a clue they would otherwise skip past.
Every one has its answer here. Read them out loud; on the page they lose half their point.
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.
A tree's bare branches ("fingers") show in winter's cold, it's covered in green leaves ("emerald glove") through summer, and it turns golden in the fall in between.
I am the fountain from which no one can drink. For many I am considered a necessary link. Like gold to all I am sought for, but my continued death brings wealth for all to want more.
Oil gushes like a fountain but isn't drinkable, is a vital economic "link" fueling industry, is highly sought after like gold, and its ongoing depletion ("death") only drives up demand and profit.
I am good at concealing what's real and hide what's true. Sometime, I bring out the courage in you! What am I?
Makeup can cover blemishes and hide someone's natural appearance, but it can also boost confidence, giving the wearer courage to feel and look their best.
They try to beat me, they try in vain. And when I win, I end the pain.
People fight against death, but it's a battle no one ultimately wins, and for the terminally ill or suffering, death's arrival can mean an end to their pain.
A precious stone, as clear as diamond. Seek it out while the sun's near the horizon. Though you can walk on water with its power, try to keep it, and it'll vanish in an hour.
Ice sparkles like a clear gem, forms best in cold conditions like sunrise or sunset, is solid enough to walk on across water, but melts away quickly once you try to hold onto it.
They made me a mouth, but didn't give me breath. Water gives me life, but the sun brings me death.
A snowman is built with a mouth (often coal or stones) but doesn't breathe, is formed from packed snow (frozen water), and inevitably melts away once the sun warms it.
It cannot be seen, it cannot be felt, Cannot be heard, cannot be smelt, Lies behind stars and under hills, and empty holes it fills. Comes first follows after, Ends life kills laughter.
Darkness is undetectable by any of the senses, exists beyond starlight and beneath the ground, fills empty spaces, precedes and follows every moment of light, and can figuratively "end life" and snuff out joy.
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?
Earth is the third planet from the sun ("sparkle bright"), sits within the Milky Way galaxy ("a cow's white drink"), has existed for billions of years, and is now being harmed by humanity, one of its own creatures.
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.
Earth is one of eight planets in our solar "family," supports every living thing on it despite their weight, rotates on its own without prompting, and its gravity has held you since before you could even crawl.
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?
Smoke can trigger fear (a house fire), the saying "smoke coming out of your ears" describes anger, it drifts silently, and no one wants smoke filling their house.
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.
Sand can shift quickly and even be deadly as "quicksand," it's made of ground-up rock, shell, and bone fragments, forms the Sandman of dreams when personified, and collects by the billions of grains along oceans, seas, and streams.
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.
The charade combines "sea" (salt water that can't quench thirst) with "man" (a being with a soul), and a man who lives and works upon the sea is called a seaman.
My first is high, My second damp, My whole a tie, A writer's cramp.
This charade splits "hyphen" into "hy" (sounding like "high") and "phen" (sounding like "fen," a damp marsh) -- and a hyphen joins words together like a tie, often causing writers grammatical headaches.
I fly to any foreign parts, assisted by my spreading wings. My body holds an hundred hearts, Nay, I will tell you stranger things when I am not in haste I ride, and then I mend my pace anon. I issue fire from my side. You witty youths, this riddle con.
This old riddle describes a sailing ship: its sails are "wings," its crew are the "hundred hearts" aboard, it can anchor and "ride" at rest before resuming its pace, and its cannons "issue fire" from its sides.
This thing all things devours, Birds, beasts, trees, and flowers. Gnaws iron bites steel, Grinds hard stones to meal, Slays king, ruins town, And beats high mountain down.
This classic riddle describes time, which wears away everything -- living things, iron, steel, stone, kings, and mountains -- given enough of it.
Thirty men and ladies two, gathered for a festive do; Dressed quite formal, black and white; soon movement turned to nasty fight.
A chess set has 32 pieces total, including two queens ("ladies"), all dressed in formal black-and-white, and the friendly-looking setup quickly turns into a strategic battle.
Of these things I have two. One for me and one for you. And when you ask about the price, I simply smile and nod twice.
The riddle personifies the idea of sharing, giving one of a pair to someone else, and notes that sharing has no price, only a warm smile in return; this poem's imagery is a fairly abstract match for its stated answer.
When it shines, its light is hazy. Makes the oceans swell like crazy. It makes moods seem more romantic, But it makes the ladies frantic.
Moonlight is hazy, the moon's gravity causes ocean tides ("makes oceans swell"), and moonlit nights are classically associated with romance -- and, in old folklore, with women's monthly cycles ("frantic").
I march before armies, a thousand salute me. My fall can bring victory, but no one would shoot me. The wind is my lover, one-legged am I. Name me and see me at home in the sky. What am I?
A flag leads troops into battle and is saluted by soldiers, lowering it can symbolize surrender or victory, it flutters for the wind, stands on a single pole ("one-legged"), and belongs flying high in the sky.
A warrior amongst the flowers, he bears a thrusting sword. He uses it whenever he must, to defend his golden hoard. What am I?
A bee flits among flowers armed with a stinger ("sword") it uses in defense, protecting the honey ("golden hoard") stored in its hive.
It floats over the land, It cuts the tallest mountain, Its voice is like a fountain, Its body like a snake, Will flow into a lake.
A river winds through the landscape, carves canyons through even the tallest mountains over time, rushes and gurgles like a fountain, snakes across the land, and empties into a lake or sea.
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!
Ancient man searched for a way to make fire, while modern man drills deep underground in search of oil for profit -- both driven by the same resourceful pursuit across different ages.
I am small, but, when entire, of force to set a town on fire; Let but one letter disappear, I then can hold a herd of deer; Take one more off, and then you'll find I once contained all human kind.
This letter riddle removes one letter at a time: "spark" (can ignite a fire) becomes "park" (can hold a herd of deer), and drops another letter to become "ark" (Noah's Ark, said to hold all humankind).
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.
The sun "knows" the position of every planet in its solar family through gravity, gifts them light and warmth, and without its pull, the planets would drift off into space instead of orbiting.
Used to wield power and glory, yet results were rather gorey, When it wrote our human story. In the eyes of wiser men, it is weaker than a pen.
Swords were once used to seize power through bloodshed and shaped history, yet the saying "the pen is mightier than the sword" holds that words ultimately have more lasting influence.
A necessity to some, a treasure to many, I'm best enjoyed among pleasant company. Some like me hot, some like me cold. Some prefer mild, some like me bold. What am I?
Coffee is essential to many people's mornings, enjoyed socially, and can be served hot or iced, in mild or bold roasts to suit any taste.
I have an eye but cannot see, You'll head inside when you see me.
A storm (especially a hurricane) has a calm center called an "eye," and when one is approaching, people head indoors for safety.
So beautiful and cold, So young and yet so old, Alive but always dead, Still hungry when has fed, Will die if it is bled, Or you cut off its head.
A vampire is described as an ageless, cold "undead" being that's perpetually hungry no matter how much it feeds, and can be destroyed by losing its blood or being beheaded.
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?
Hawaii is dotted with palm trees, imports goods from distant lands, features an active smoking volcano, and is known worldwide for its friendly 'aloha' culture and beaches ('fire' referring to lava).
They keep secrets locked away. And you pass through them each day. For each one there is a key, They respond to sesame.
Doors keep rooms and their contents private, are passed through constantly, are opened with keys, and the phrase "open sesame" from Ali Baba's tale famously commanded a door to unlock.
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.
The riddle describes the sea: it seems to begin at the horizon ("earth's end"), its saltwater can't be drunk, it's often dark like ink, and you'll sink if you walk into it.
They belong to me; they belong to you; They can make you feel happy or make you feel blue; They never end until the day you do.
Everyone has their own private thoughts, which can swing between joy and sadness, and they keep running through your mind for as long as you're alive.
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?
This classic riddle points to the five vowels: A in glAss, E in jEt, I in tIn, O in bOx, and U -- which can never fly from "yoU" since it's part of the very word "you."
I have a little sister, they call her Peep, Peep; She wades the waters deep, deep, deep; She climbs the mountains high, high, high; Poor little creature she has but one eye.
This classic nursery riddle describes a star: it seems to "wade" reflected deep in water and "climb" high over mountain peaks, and its single point of twinkling light is its one "eye."
An utensil used for bread. Also a paper cutter. Used by a thug to take a life, Or wielded by the tamest wife, When used to spread the butter.
A knife slices bread, cuts paper, can be a weapon in the wrong hands, and is just as often a harmless kitchen tool for spreading butter.
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?
Paper is made from trees, is light enough to blow away in the wind, and paper-like writing materials date back to ancient civilizations.
A hundred years I once did live, and often wholesome food did give, yet all that time I ne'er did roam, so much as a half a mile from my home, my days were spent devoid of strife, until at last I lost my life. And since my death – I pray give ear, I oft have traveled far and near.
A tree can live for a century without ever moving from where it's rooted, providing shade and fruit through its life, but after being cut down and made into lumber -- a ship's timbers, say -- it can travel the world.
Six legs, two heads, Two hands, one long nose. Yet he uses only four legs Wherever he goes.
Combine a horse (four legs, one head, one nose) with its rider (two legs, one head, two hands) and you get a horseman with six legs and two heads total -- though only the horse's four legs actually touch the ground.
Halo of water, tongue of wood. Skin of stone, long I've stood. My fingers short reach to the sky. Inside my heart men live and die.
A castle is ringed by a water-filled moat ("halo of water"), has a wooden drawbridge ("tongue"), stone walls ("skin"), short towers reaching skyward, and inside, generations of people have lived and died.
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.
Paper has recorded most of humanity's knowledge without being a brain itself, and to a writer with a quill ("feathers"), a blank sheet is a daunting "bane" while a filled one is a satisfying "boon."
At the end of my yard there is a vat, four-and-twenty ladies dancing in that; Some in green gowns, and some with blue hat; He is a wise man who can tell me that.
The source's answer key lists 'fax' here, but this classic old English riddle (ladies dancing in a vat, green gowns, blue hats) is traditionally solved as 'cabbages' growing in a garden - an apparent mismatch in the original worksheet, preserved here as instructed.
I'm tall in the morning and short in the noon. I disappear at night but I will be back soon.
A shadow stretches long at sunrise, shrinks short around noon when the sun is overhead, and vanishes after dark -- only to return again the next day.
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.
A riddle doesn't always make logical sense but often rhymes, needs logical clue-hunting to solve, and this description is itself a riddle -- self-referential right down to "the answer is in the name."
My first is second in line; I send shivers up your spine; not quite shining bright I glitter in the light.
Ice sends a chill up your spine on contact and glints and glitters rather than truly shining -- the "second in line" clue is a looser fit, though it hints at ice's letter I standing near the front of the alphabet.
Silently I drink and dive in fluids dark as night. I beat the mighty warrior but never in fight. The black blood in my veins your thirst for knowledge slakes. My spittle is more venomous than that of poison snakes.
A pen "drinks" dark ink silently, and though it never physically fights, "the pen is mightier than the sword," outlasting warriors -- its ink quenches thirst for knowledge, and its words can be sharper and more damaging than any venom.
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.
Alchemists of old mixed, melted, and distilled substances in secret, chasing the mythical elixir of youth and the power to turn base metal into gold -- practices that sometimes got practitioners condemned as witches.
I can fill a room but take up no space. Look out at night, and I am in no place. What am I?
Light can fill an entire room without physically taking up any volume, and once night falls and the source is gone, it's simply nowhere to be found.
Small, containing light, You'll need it in the dark, It will provide that spark, and shine into the night. Will light up any pyre, 'Cause it can help make a fire.
A lighter is small, throws off a spark and flame to see by in the dark, and can be used to ignite anything from a candle to a bonfire pyre.
When liquid splashes me, none seeps through. When I am moved a lot, liquid I spew. When I am hit, color I change. And color, I come in quite a range. What I cover is very complex, And I am very easy to flex.
Skin is waterproof against splashes yet sweats liquid when you're active, bruises and changes color when struck, comes in a wide range of tones, covers the body's complex systems, and stretches easily.
Every dawn begins with me. At dusk I'll be the first you see, and daybreak couldn't come without. What midday centers all about. Daisies grow from me, I'm told. And when I come, I end all code, but in the sun I won't be found. Yet still, each day I'll be around.
The letter D begins 'dawn,' 'dusk,' and 'daybreak,' sits at the center of 'midday,' starts 'daisies,' ends 'code,' and is missing entirely from 'sun' - yet found in 'day' itself.
Black within and red without, With four corners round about. What am I?
A chimney is blackened with soot on the inside, often built from red brick on the outside, and typically has a square, four-cornered shape.
A most delicious thing. It can be given but cannot be kept. Some awake from it after they've slept. It is the moistest and softest butterfly wing, But when it is the last even it can sting.
A kiss can be given but never kept for yourself, can wake someone (as in fairy tales) from sleep, and while usually soft and sweet, a final one - the 'kiss of death' or goodbye - can sting.
I think you live beneath a roof that is upheld by me; I think you seldom walk abroad, but my fair form you see; I close you in on every side, you very dwelling pave, and probably I'll go with you at last into the grave.
Wood forms the beams that hold up a roof, the floors you walk on, the walls that enclose a room, and traditionally the coffin a person is buried in.
I am found by the ocean and offer you a bed. Whether you want me or not, to your house I am led? What am I?
Sand covers ocean beaches and provides a place to lie down and relax, and no matter how careful you are, it inevitably tags along home in your shoes, clothes, and bags.
For me, much blood has been shed. I have two faces but only bear one head. What am I?
A coin has two sides -- heads and tails -- yet only one is called "heads," and throughout history people have fought and died over money.
Upon me you can tread, though softly under cover. And I will take you places, that you have yet to discover. I'm high, and I'm low, though flat in the middle. And though a joy to the children, adults think of me little.
Stairs (often carpeted, "under cover") lead you up and down between floors you haven't yet reached, with a flat landing partway, and kids love bounding up and down them far more than adults do.
Violet, indigo, blue and green, yellow, orange and red; these are the colors you have seen after the storm has fled. What am I?
A rainbow displays all seven colors of the spectrum and typically appears in the sky right after a rain storm passes.
My life is often a volume of grief, your help is needed to turn a new leaf. Stiff is my spine and my body is pale. But I'm always ready to tell a tale.
A book can be filled with sad ('grief') stories across many volumes, has pages ('leaves') a reader turns, a rigid spine, and pale paper, and it's always ready to be read.
Four wings I have, which swiftly mount on high, on sturdy pinions, yet I never fly; And though my body often moves around, upon the self-same spot I'm always found, and, like a mother, who breaks her infant's bread. I chew for man before he can be fed.
A windmill's four sails ("wings") spin high in the air without ever leaving the spot it's built on, and it grinds grain into flour -- "chewing" the food -- before people can bake it into bread.
The land was white the seed was black. It'll take a good scholar to riddle me that.
This old riddle describes writing: the white page is the 'land' and the black ink letters are the 'seed' planted upon it, something a scholar must 'riddle out' by reading.
It gives everything and then takes it away, It governs destinies and fates, It changes and it never waits, It rules the cards and dice each day, Is part of any game we play.
Chance can hand you good fortune only to snatch it back, shifts unpredictably, and is the invisible force ruling every roll of the dice, deal of cards, and outcome in a game.
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.
Rock formations can glisten with minerals or sit dull, feel cold or (as lava) scorching hot, hide gems and treasures inside, offer shelter in caves, prove deadly in a landslide, and break down over time into soil that supports new life.
It's in the church, but not in the steeple; It's in the parson, but not in the people; It's in the oyster, but not in the shell; It's in the clapper, but not in the bell.
The letter R hides inside 'church,' 'parson,' 'oyster,' and 'clapper,' but is missing from their paired words 'steeple,' 'people,' 'shell,' and 'bell.'
Ancient and majestic, great big piles of stones, Used to encase both riches and bones. Seen from certain angles, They look like big triangles.
Egyptian pyramids are massive stone structures built to entomb pharaohs along with their treasures, and viewed from the side they form a clear triangular silhouette.
Hard to catch, easy to hold. Can't be seen, unless it's cold.
You can't physically catch your breath in your hands, but you 'hold your breath' easily, and it becomes visible as vapor only in cold weather.
Some try to hide, some try to cheat, but time will show, we always will meet. Try as you might, to guess my name, I promise you'll know when you I do claim.
No one can outrun or outwit death forever -- eventually everyone meets it, and there's no mistaking the moment when it finally comes for you.
It is by nature, soft as silk; A puffy cloud, white as milk; Snow tops this tropical crop; The dirtiest part of a mop.
Cotton fibers are soft and silky, grow in fluffy white puffs on the plant, and are used both in mop heads (traditionally cotton strands) and in the fabric of countless everyday textiles.
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.
A violin has a soft tone and a slim, curved waist, and it can only produce sound when its bow is drawn across the strings.
With thieves I consort, With the Vilest, in short, I'm quite at ease in depravity, Yet all divines use me, And savants can't lose me, For I am the century of gravity.
The letter V is tucked inside every key word here - thie-V-es, V-ilest, di-V-ines, sa-V-ants, and gra-V-ity - the hidden-letter trick behind this riddle.
In wealth I abound; in water I stand; As a fencer I'm valued all over the land; At Venice I'm famous; by farmers I'm prized; Respected by law, yet huntsmen despised; Consternation and ruin ensue when I break; And the beasts of the forest advantage won't take.
This riddle plays on multiple meanings of "bank": a financial bank (wealth), a riverbank (stands in water, valued by farmers for irrigation and fencing land), the famous canal banks of Venice, and the collapse of a riverbank causing floods, which even wild animals avoid crossing during a break.
Plow and hoe, reap and sow, What soon does every farmer grow?
This riddle is a play on words -- after endlessly plowing, hoeing, reaping, and sowing, every farmer inevitably grows "weary" from the constant labor.
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.
A smile is silent but speaks volumes, can be genuine or fake, wins friends or provokes suspicion, and often has the power to melt away even the harshest anger.
Written on with words of white, Has the color of the night, Is the teacher's best delight, And a student's daily fright.
A blackboard is dark like night with lessons chalked on it in white, beloved by teachers for instruction but dreaded by students called up to solve a problem on it.
In marble halls as white as milk, lined with a skin as soft as silk. Within a fountain crystal-clear. A golden apple doth appear. No doors there are to this stronghold, yet thieves break in and steal the gold.
This famous Tolkien riddle describes an egg: its white shell ("marble halls"), the soft inner membrane ("skin like silk"), the clear egg white ("fountain"), and the golden yolk -- which has no door, yet can be "stolen" by cracking it open.
I'm a slippery fish in a cloudy sea; Neither hook nor spear will capture me; With your hand you must hunt down this fish, to see that it ends up in the dish.
A wet bar of soap slips around in cloudy, sudsy bathwater like a fish, and the only way to catch it is by hand, eventually setting it back in its dish.
A useful thing, hard, firm, and white, outside in shaggy robe bedight; Hallowed within right cleverly, it goes to work both white and dry. When after labor it comes back, you'll find it moist and very black; for service it is ready ever, and fails the hand that guides it never.
This old riddle describes a quill pen: a hard white feather shaft in its "shaggy robe" of down, hollowed out and cut to a nib, dipped white and dry into the inkwell, and returning from writing ("labor") stained black with ink.
Take me for a spin and I'll make you cool, but use me when it's cool and you're a fool. What am I?
Switching on a fan cools you off in the heat, but running it when it's already cold out is pointless -- and "spin" is a pun on the fan's spinning blades.
It is a symphony of noise, It can produce both grief and joys, It is inspiring and grand, Made by a person or a band.
Music can be an organized blend of sounds that stirs both sorrow and happiness, ranging from grand orchestral works to a single performer's tune.
A single syllable do I claim, black was my most famous name; Fetal to mortals here below, thousands have I slain in a single blow.
"Plague" is one syllable, its most infamous outbreak was known as the "Black" Death, and it proved fatal to mortals, wiping out thousands in devastating waves.
My love, when I gaze on thy beautiful face. Careering along, yet always in place, the thought has often come into my mind. If I ever shall see thy glorious behind.
This classic riddle describes the moon: it appears to travel across the sky yet is always "in place" orbiting Earth, and because the same side always faces us, we can never see its far side ("behind").
Given them to the girls whenever, And they'll be best friends forever. Shiny, pretty stones, Bought with massive loans.
Diamonds are famously "a girl's best friend," and their sparkling beauty comes at a steep price, often financed with a hefty loan.
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. What is it?
This plays on the idioms "cat in the hat" and "letting the cat out of the bag," while describing a real fluffy cat soft enough to compare to a mitten.
A book once owned by the wealthy, now rare to find. Never for sale and often left behind. What am I?
Printed phonebooks were once a household staple even among the wealthy, but they're now obsolete -- rarely found, never sold, and usually just abandoned on a doorstep.
It keeps something that cannot be kept, And wakes you when you've slept. It may go slow or stop at times, But even then it chimes.
A clock tracks time even though time itself can never truly be "kept," it wakes sleepers with an alarm, and even a clock running slow or stopped can still chime the hour.
It holds no blessings in disguise. Its rhymes are aimed at your demise, it's cast only to ruin, Whatever you are doin'.
A curse is spoken (often in rhyme, like an incantation) with the sole purpose of bringing misfortune and ruin, never hidden good luck.
A dragon's tooth in a mortal's hand, I kill, I maim, I divide the land.
A sword's blade is sharp and fang-like as a dragon's tooth, and in human hands it has historically killed, maimed, and carved up territory in conquest.
Though my beauty is becoming I can hurt you just the same; I come in many colors; I am what I am by any other name.
A rose is beautiful but its thorns can prick you, it blooms in many colors, and the riddle nods to Shakespeare's famous line that a rose "by any other name would smell as sweet."
What points the way without a hand. It floats on water but exists on land?
A magnetic compass needle points north without any hand to guide it, and while a compass is used on land, its floating needle design works because it can also float on water.
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.
This riddle describes a goose feather taken from its mother goose, plucked and trimmed ("head cut off") into a quill, then dipped in ink ("diet drink") to write peace treaties and love letters.
I'm sometimes white and always wrong. I can break a heart and hurt the strong. I can build love or tear it down. I can make a smile or bring a frown.
A "white lie" is still a lie at its core, and lies -- whether cruel or well-intentioned -- can devastate relationships or, in rare cases, be told to protect someone's feelings.
In we go, out we go. All around and in a row. Always, always steady flow. When we'll stop, you'll never known. In we go, out we go.
Tides flow in and out along the shoreline in a steady, predictable rhythm, governed by the moon, and they never stop cycling in and out.
I give people a huge fright, but at the end I'm sweet. I normally celebrate at night, when there's less heat. What am I?
Halloween is full of scary costumes and frights, but ends with sweet treats collected from trick-or-treating, celebrated after dark on a cool autumn night.
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.
Destiny is often described as already written, resisting it only leads to trouble, and it can lead you to blessings, trials, or places you never imagined -- whether you fight it or not.
Double my number, I'm less than a score. Half of my number is less than four. Add one to my double when bakers are near. Days of the week are still greater, I fear.
Six doubled is 12 (less than a score of 20), half of six is 3 (less than 4), doubling and adding one gives 13 (a baker's dozen), and six is still fewer than the seven days of the week.
Snake coiled round and round. Snake deep below the ground. Snake that's never had a head. Snake that binds but not with dread.
A coiled rope looks like a snake, is used to bind things down or below ground, but of course has no head and poses no real threat.
It is in every mountain, it's not in any hill, it's not in all the world, and yet it's in the mill.
The letter M appears in "mountain" and "mill" but not in "hill" or "world" -- a classic hidden-letter riddle.
His is no small athletic feat, Has to stay nimble on his feet, To fight and his opponents beat, And taste sweet victory, not grim defeat.
A boxer must be quick on his feet and physically fit to outmaneuver and defeat opponents in the ring, chasing the sweetness of victory over the sting of defeat.
A metal neither black nor red, as heavy as man's golden greed. What you do to stay ahead, with friend or foe or arrow and steed.
Lead the metal is dull gray and heavy like greed itself, while 'to lead' also means staying out in front - whether guiding friend, foe, arrow, or steed - a double meaning this riddle plays on.
I view the world in little space, Am always changing place; No food I eat, but, by my power, Procure what millions do devour.
The sun appears as a small disc in the sky and seems to move across it daily, and though it eats nothing itself, its energy grows the food that feeds millions.
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.
A shadow is always black but changes size, stays attached to your feet yet can stretch and "fly" across the ground, and only appears in sunlight, vanishing on a rainy, overcast day.
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