Long Riddles

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?

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.

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

I'm a very valuable thing to have.
Use me right now, you should.
Yet if you cut off my hindquarters,
I'd be but a piece of wood.
What am I?

I'm a word, six letters long; I sometimes enter with a gong.
All in order from A to Z, I start with the letter B.
What is the word?

Alight or in dark, my face is a leer.
In a field with my brothers, you'll find me without bother,
For that autumn day is mine.

I have a title and many pages
I am a genteel of genteel descent
I am a killer veteran of war
I am a slave to my lord
Pledged to his service.

I have a leg but I do not move,
A face but no expression,
Be it wind or rain I stay outside.
What am I?

As beautiful as the setting sun,
As delicate as the morning dew;
An angel's dusting from the stars,
That can turn the Earth into a frosted moon.
What am I?

Everyone has it.
Those who have it least don't know that they have it.
Those who have it most wish they had less of it,
But not too little or none at all.

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?

I follow the orders of only two.
I respect the work of only two.
I am in constant battles with many,
Though one surpassed them all.
With forces joined,
We created hell,
Until our mutual enemy fell.
Who am I?

I come when the weather is at its prime,
Though, it might be wise to leave nothing on the street.
But, in the wintertime
My name is obsolete
What am I?

My thunder comes before my lightning.
My lightning comes before my rain.
And my rain dries all the ground it touches.
What am I?

You use me for multiple reasons,
I am many colored, and many shaped.
I may or may not also tell you your sexual preference.
What am I?

Looks like water, but it's heat.
Sits on sand, lays on concrete.
People have been known,
To follow it everywhere.
But it gets them no place,
And all they can do is stare.

What has a coat? Hugs you not in sympathy?
Whose smile you'd rather not see?
Whose stance is a terrible thing to see?
Who is it that brave men run away from?
Whose fingers are clawed?
Whose sleep lasts for months?
And who's company we shunt?

I am rather large and usually majestic.
I am every hue of the rainbow
I can eat you, I may heat you,
You only wish you could see me.
What am I?

It may only be given,
Not taken or bought,
What the sinner desires,
But the saint does not.

Screaming, soaring seeking sky.
Flowers of fire flying high,
Eastern art from ancient time,
Name me now and solve this rhyme.

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 look flat, but I am deep,
Hidden realms I shelter.
Lives I take, but food I offer.
At times I am beautiful.
I can be calm, angry and turbulent.
I have no heart, but offer pleasure as well as death.
No man can own me, yet I encompass what all men must have.

There is a word in the English language in which the first two letters signify a male, the first three letters signify a female, the first four signify a great man, and the whole word, a great woman.
What is the word?

I have one eye,
See near and far,
I hold the moments you treasure,
And the things that make you weep.

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.

Although I'm not an insect, some people found me very difficult to exterminate. They called me something like 'insane priest.' The first half of my name means the same as 'scrape,' & my last three letters are a metal. Who am I?

A little pool with two layers of wall around it. One white and soft and the other dark and hard, amidst a light brown grassy lawn with an outline of a green grass. What am I?

I am slim and tall
Many find me desirable and appealing
They touch me and I give a false good feeling
Once I shine in splendor
But only once and then no more
For many I am to die for.
What am I?

I am born in fear, raised in truth,
And I come to my own in deed.
When comes a time that I'm called forth,
I come to serve the cause of need.

On the wall, in the air,
You just want me out of your hair,
Try to catch me, but you cannot,
For my vision is thousand fold.
What am I?

I cannot be felt, seen or touched;
Yet I can be found in everybody;
My existence is always in debate;
Yet there is a style of music named after me.

I have seven letters and am something you eat. My only anagram can help your pain. If you remove my first 2 letters I wear things down. Removing my first 3 letters is an adjective and removing my first 4 letters leaves a measure of time. What am I?

A cloud was my mother, the wind is my father, my son is the cool stream, and my daughter is the fruit of the land. A rainbow is my bed, the earth my final resting place, and I'm the torment of man.

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?

I am made from an animal,
Although you nickname me after a different one.
You can't eat me; you can only hold me,
And once a year a festival is erected in my honor.
What am I?

Above the kingdom I reign,
Spotted, speckled, with a mane,
I travel in packs,
And if you're lucky, you'd ride me.
What am I?

What has everything inside it? Everything you can imagine even god, wind, world, sky, heaven, earth and everything that comes to your mind?

No head has he but he wears a hat. No feet has he but he stands up straight. On him perhaps a fairy sat, weaving a spell one evening late!

I cut through evil
Like a double edged sword,
And chaos flees at my approach.
Balance I single-handedly upraise,
Through battles fought with heart and mind,
Instead of with my gaze.
What am I?

Thousands lay up gold within this house,
But no man made it.
Spears past counting guard this house,
But no man wards it.

I dig out tiny caves, and store gold and silver in them.
I also build bridges of silver and make crowns of gold.
They are the smallest you could imagine.
Sooner or later everybody needs my help, yet many people are afraid to let me help them. Who am I?

What must be in the oven yet cannot be baked?
Grows in the heat yet shuns the light of day?
What sinks in water but rises with air?
Looks like skin, but is fine as hair?

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?

A hundred brothers lie next to each other;
Each white and fine - they've only one spine.
I am the tongue that lies between two.
Remove me to gather their wisdom to you.

I saw a man in white, he looked quite a sight.
He was not old, but he stood in the cold.
And when he felt the sun, he started to run.
Who could he be? Please answer me.

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.

We travel much, yet prisoners are, and close confined to boot.
Yet with any horse, we will keep the pace, and will always go on foot.
What are they?

What goes up, but at the same time goes down?
Up toward the sky, and down toward the ground.
Its present tense and past tense too,
come for a ride, just you and me!

Full of dark, filled with everything
Both on my skin they color
With my pack, I am always
Afraid of the cat.
What am I?

They can be harbored, but few hold water,
You can nurse them, but only by holding them against someone else,
You can carry them, but not with your arms,
You can bury them, but not in the earth.

Begotten, and born, and dying with noise,
The terror of women, and pleasure of boys,
Like the fiction of poets concerning the wind,
I'm chiefly unruly, when strongest confined.

I saw a strange creature,
Long, hard, and straight,
Thrusting in a round, dark, opening,
Preparing to discharge its load of lives,
Puffing and squealing noises accompanied it,
Then a final screech as it slowed and stopped.

A red house is made out of red bricks.
A blue house is made out of blue bricks.
What is a green house made out of?

With pointed fangs it sits in wait,
With piercing force it doles out fate,
Over bloodless victims proclaiming its might,
Eternally joining in a single bite
What is it?

I cannot hear or even see,
But sense light and sounds there may be,
Sometimes I end up on a hook,
I can be combined with a book.
What am I?

Without a bridle, or a saddle, across a thing I ride a-straddle. And those I ride, by help of me, though almost blind, are made to see. What am I?