Mystifying, misleading, and puzzling questions posed as problems to be solved or guessed.
Riddles With Answers
Nature's way of applauding a lightning strike.
Owned by Old McDonald.
My first is snapping, snarling, growling, My second's industrious, romping, and prowling. Higgledy piggledy Here we lie, picked and plucked, and put in a pie.
My first is second in line; I send shivers up your spine; not quite shining bright I glitter in the light.
My first is ocean but not in sea, My second in milk but not in me. My third is in three but not in throw, My fourth in vow but not in crow. My fifth is in eight but not in night, My last is in wrong and also right. My whole is praise for thoughts or men; Or women, too, or tongue or pen.
My first is nothing but a name; my second is more small; my whole is of so little fame it has no name at all.
My first is in spell, but not book. My second is in fright and also shook. My third is in cauldron, but never in pot. My fourth is in net and also in knot. My fifth is in bat, but never in vampire. My sixth is in coal, but not found in fire. My seventh is in moon, but not in night.
My first is in riddle, but not in little. My second is in think, but not in brink. My third is in thyme, but not in time. My fourth is in mother, but not in brother. My last is in time, but no t in climb.
My first is high, my second damp, my whole a tie, a writer's cramp.
My first is equality; my second is inferiority; my whole is superiority.
My first is an insect; m second is a border; my whole puts the face in a tuneful disorder.
My first is a title of honor; My second is myself; My first is your and I; My whole is a beautiful fixed star, seen in the winter.
My first is a term to relate a circumstance present or past; and those who are much prone to prate, my second will spout away fast. My whole, in the days of our youth, is what we extremely despised; and though it say nothing but truth, yet it never need hope to be prized.
My first is a slice affords so nice; my second discomposes; my whole's a bed where honor's head devotedly reposes.
My first is a heir; My second's a snare; My whole is the offspring of fancy; Which I sent, out of play, Upon Valentine's day, As a token of love, to my Nancy.
My first brace Nelson yielded, midst the jar of angry battle, and the din of war; my second, when from labor we retreat, far form polite, yet offers us a seat; my whole is but my second more complete.
My first a blessing sent to earth, of plants and flowers to aid the birth; my second surely was designed to hurl destruction on mankind; my whole a pledge from pardoning heaven, of wrath appeased and crimes forgiven.
My body is quite thin, and has nothing within, neither have I head, face, or eye; yet a tail I have got full as long as- what not? And up, without wings, I can fly.
My back and belly is wood, And my ribs is lined with leather. I've a hole in my nose and one in my breast, And I'm mostly used in cold weather.
Cut the Mustard
Trust in Me
Mouthless but I will tell you a name that is not mine, I will show you the years I have seen but I have no eyes, memory I have but I have no mind.
Mouth up it gets filled, mouth down it gets empty.
More precious than gold, but cannot be bought, can never be sold only earned if it's sought, If it is broken it can still can be mended, At birth it can't start nor by death is it ended.
Once in a Blue Moon
Might Makes Right
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Men seize it form its home, tear apart its flesh, drink the sweet blood, then cast its skin aside.