Bowl That Can’t Be Filled
I am as round and deep as a bowl, but all the world’s water couldn’t fill me up. What am I?
A sieve.
Long or Short, Grown or Bought
I can be long or short. I can be grown or bought. I can be painted or left bare. My tip can be round or square. What am I?
Fingernails.
A Hundred Legs But Can’t Stand
I have a hundred legs, but cannot stand.
I have a long neck, but no head.
I cannot see, yet I help keep your house neat and tidy.
A broom.
I Stand Like A Sentry
I stand like a sentry
And am barred by the gentry,
The first month and its god oft slip
Between my hard, dun colored lip.
What am I?
Sentries are posted at borders, gates, or doors.
The gentry (in this case to referring to the general populace) bar their doors at night.
The first month is January, named after the Roman god Janus, the double-faced God of doorways, passages and thresholds.
You pass through the doorway (hence the slip), and dun is a brown color, referencing the color of wood, which most doors are made of. Though it’s not commonly referred to, the “lip of the door” is the part of the door that fits into the doorframe on the handle/knob side, particularly if the door is lipped or ridged in order to fit the door frame better.
Thanks to Helena for creating this and sending it in.
A Circled of Joined Hands
You dance in a circle of joined hands,
And though they spin away I can always see your face,
In the world, no matter where I am,
One look at you and I know my place.
What am I?
A clock.
An analogue clock is a circle, and the hands of a clock are joined at the middle.
The hands can point away from you, but the clock face is always visible.
No matter where you are in the world, you can probably find a clock.
“One look at you and I know my place…in time!”
Thanks to Helena for creating this and sending it in.
Where None Should Be
One where none should be,
Or maybe where two should be,
Seeking out purity,
In the kings trees.
What am I?
A unicorn
Not Seen Nor Felt
It cannot be seen, cannot be felt,
Cannot be heard, cannot be smelt.
It lies behind stars and under hills,
And empty holes it fills.
It comes first and follows after,
Ends life, kills laughter.
The darkness.
Thin, Bold, Sick And Cold
One thin, one bold,
One sick, one cold.
The earth we span,
To prey upon man.
Who are we?
The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse.
Colored As A Maiden Tweaked
Colored as a maiden tweaked,
Time was naught when I began;
Through the garden I was sneaked,
I alone am the fall of man.
What am I?
An apple.
For Our Ambrosia
For our ambrosia we were blessed,
By Jupiter, with a sting of death.
Though our might, to some is jest,
We have quelled the dragon’s breath.
Who are we?
Bees.