A Harvest Sown and Reaped
A harvest sown and reaped on the same day
In an unplowed field,
Which increases without growing,
Remains whole though it is eaten
Within and without,
Is useless and yet
The staple of nations.
A war.
Part Of The Bird
The part of the bird
that is not in the sky,
which can swim in the ocean
and always stay dry.
What is it?
The bird’s shadow.
I Can Always Go Up, Never Down
I can always go up, never down,
I can always turn left, never right,
I am always hot when I’m cold
A ski lift.
No Head On Which A Hat To Place
I always run but never walk,
I sometimes sing but cannot talk,
No head on which a hat to place,
You always look me in the face.
What am I?
A clock. It runs all the time, it “sings” for hourly chimes, cuckoos or alarms, it doesn’t have a head (but does have hands) and you look a clock in the face to tell the time.
Keys to Unlock Your Soul
I am a box that holds keys without locks, yet they can unlock your soul. What am I?
A piano.
Take Away All My Letters
Take away my first letter,
Take away my second letter,
Take away all my letters,
and I remain the same.
What am I?
A mail carrier. Even when there aren’t any letters left to deliver, they’re job is still the mail carrier.
I Am What Remains
I am what remains of what
was once a living whole,
dug in deep, protruding, though,
and unobtainable.
A stump.
By Sef Daystrom