Rhyming riddles

The rhyming riddles can be very special. Aside from being a riddle, some of them are a poem. So be prepared to read plenty of rhymes.

Rhyming riddles
Rhyming riddles

It is there from the very start and will be there until the end. To end you must cross over. And you must pass through it to begin.

I build up castles but tear down moutains make some men blind but others to see. What am I?

I have lots to say but can never speak. Knowledge is the thing I eat. Inside me adventures you will find quests and treasures of every kind for all those that wish to visit me your hands are the ultimate key. What am I?

The beginning of eternity, the end of time and space, the beginnings of every end, the end of every place. What am i?

White flesh above and brown gills below. Never moving an inch, and in darkness I grow.

Red as blood and sweet as wine. A hard hard heart within flesh sublime.

I touch the Earth, I touch the sky, But if I touch you, you’ll surely die.

My feet stay warm, but my head is cold. No one can move me, I’m just too old.

I run away every day and return every night. I am the bane of the flower and the theives’ delight.

I live in the oceans, the rivers and seas, when I’m cold I float, when I’m hot, I’m free.

You use it between your head and toes, the more it works the thinner it grows. What is it?

What do you use to hoe a row, slay a foe and wring with woe?

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.

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 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?

From that which comes within itself,
It builds its table on my shelf.

Three little letters, a paradox to some.
The worse that it is, the better it becomes.

Not a burden for its weight and daily carried out,
He who takes it wishes it had never come about.

I am everywhere.
Nothing can compare.
Run and hide and I will still be there
Because everything is mine to share.
No need to seek me out,
Though, you may just run out.
What am I?

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.

My first is in wield, sever bones and marrow.
My second is in blade, forged in cold steel.
My third is in arbalest, and also in arrows.
My fourth is in power, plunged through a shield.
My fifth is in honor, and also in vows
My last will put an end to it all.

Flour of England, fruit of Spain,
Met together in a shower of rain;
Put in a bag tied round with a string,
If you’ll tell me this riddle, I’ll give you a ring.

Tool of thief, toy of queen.
Always used to be unseen.
Sign of joy, sign of sorrow.
Giving all likeness borrowed.

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 be mended,
At birth it can’t start nor by death is it ended.

We are emeralds and diamonds,
Lost by the moon;
Found by the sun,
And picked up soon.

Shifting, Shifting, Drifting deep.
Below me great and mighty cities sleep.
Swirling, Scurlling, All around.
I’m only where no water will be found.

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?

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.

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?

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?

Made of ten but two we make,
When assembled others quake,
Five apart and we are weak,
Five together havoc wreak.
What are we?

Above all things have I been placed
Thus have I, a man disgraced.
I describe sunlight or lock
But after all, I’m just a rock.

A serpent swam in a silver urn,
A golden bird did in its mouth abide,
The serpent drank the water, this in turn,
Killed the serpent. Then the gold bird died.

When set loose, I fly away,
Never so cursed, as when I go astray

At the sound of me, men may dream
Or stamp their feet
At the sound of me, women may laugh
Or sometimes weep.

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

I go around in circles, But always straight ahead
Never complain, No matter where I am led.

Hands she has but does not hold,
teeth she has but does not bite,
feet she has but they are cold,
eyes she has but without sight.
Who is she?

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?

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.

Within, I clean all that is bad and is old.
I make juice that’s the color of gold.
Should I die, a filter machine would you need assembled to replace me and beans I resemble.

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.

My sides are firmly laced about,
Yet nothing is within;
You’ll think my head is strange indeed,
Being nothing else but skin.

A natural state, I’m sought by all.
Go with me and you shall fall.
You do me when you spend,
and you use me when you eat to no end.
What am I?

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

If your life is cut short, I am not the one to blame.
You signed up, and your death was not my aim.
Enter our doors; there is so much to see,
We just happen to hold the key,
To adventure abound
And fun to be found
Step in our door
And see what is in store.
What am I?

My step is slow, the snow’s my breath
I give the ground, a grinding death
My marching makes an end of me
Slain by sun or drowned in sea.

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.

I’m a bearer of darkness.
I’m feared and often hated.
I’m a symbol of the unwanted,
An omen that leaves you jaded.
Some people can predict my coming,
But then you’ll forever see
Things lurking around corners…
Are you sure that it was me?

I am a strange creature, Hovering in the air,
Moving from here to there, with a brilliant flare.
Some say I sing, but others say I have no voice.
So I just hum – as a matter of choice.
What am I?

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.

Lovely and round, I shine with pale light,
Grown in the darkness, a lady’s delight.

Large as a mountain, small as a pea,
Endlessly swimming in a waterless sea.

A leathery snake,
With a stinging bite,
I’ll stay coiled up,
Unless I must fight.

Deep, deep, do they go.
Spreading out as they go.
Never needing any air.
They are sometimes as fine as hair.

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?

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’m named after nothing, though I’m awfully clamorous.
And when I’m not working, your house is less glamorous.
What am I?

Always well dressed, but I never fly.
Black and white, sometimes in a tie.
I swim and slide, and dance and glide,
With one person by my side.
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?

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

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.

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

I love to dance and twist and prance,
I shake my tail, as away I sail,
wingless I fly into the sky.
What am I?

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

I can be long, or I can be short.
I can be grown, and I can be bought.
I can be painted, or left bare.
I can be round, or square.
What am I?

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

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