Where I Never Was
You saw me where I never was and where I could not be. And yet within that very place, my face you often see. What am I?
A reflection
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
Cannot Keep Until Given
You cannot keep me until you have given me. What am I?
Your word.
Not Flesh, Feather, Scales Nor Bone
We are not flesh, feather, scales nor bone;
Yet we still have fingers and thumbs of our own.
What are we?
Gloves. They’re not made of flesh, feather, scales or bone, but have fingers and thumbs.
A Wonderful Help To Women
I am a wonderful help to women,
The hope of something to come.
I harm no citizen except my slayer.
Rooted I stand on a high bed. I am shaggy below.
Sometimes the beautiful peasant’s daughter, an eager-armed,
Proud woman grabs my body,
Rushes my red skin, holds me hard,
Claims my head. The curly-haired
Woman who catches me fast will feel
Our meeting. Her eye will be wet.
What am I?
An onion. Onions help add flavor to meals, they make the person who cuts them cry and they grow hair downtown.
Travel a Lot Meet Both Rich and Poor
I travel a lot and meet both the rich and the poor, but nobody knows where I am going next. I’m invisible but you can see what I do. Who or what am I?
Wind (or anything blown by the wind). It moves all over, reaches the rich and the poor equally and no one knows exactly which way the next gust of wind will blow. You can’t see the wind, but you can see what it blows, like leaves or dust.