Guest Posted June 6, 2009 Report Share Posted June 6, 2009 My first riddle: My friends all tire, the days grow dark. So here I'll sit among the bark. The color the sky will color the ground, and soon I will hear not a sound. I turn my back to frozen sky, It does sting more than even I. I tarry not far from the den. The time for retreat will come, but when? While my life sits upon the brink, I'll sit and wait for you to think. What am I? Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
0 Guest Posted June 6, 2009 Report Share Posted June 6, 2009 oh and I just feel like making it official, I am a porcupine Congratulations! Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
0 Guest Posted June 6, 2009 Report Share Posted June 6, 2009 Plasmid, How did you guess? I am shocked. You are completely correct. Though sad that you figured me out, I am pleased that my puzzle was solvable. intern121, I will give you credit also for backing Plasmid up. Many clues were given in my poem My friends all tire, the days grow dark. So here I'll sit among the bark. -The porcupine likes to sit in the trees and eat bark during the darker days of winter. The color the sky will color the ground, and soon I will hear not a sound. -White clouds will make snow fall. Everyone will hibernate and it will be silent. All my friends do sleep and rest. But I will not for time is not best. -The porcupine does not hibernate. I turn my back to frozen sky, It does sting more than even I. -There would be much after sting if you got poked with a porcupine's quill. I tarry not far from the den. The time for retreat will come, but when? -During winter, a porcupine will never travel farther than one mile from its den. While my life sits upon the brink, I'll sit and wait for you to think. -During winter, all animals are in danger of the cold. Thanks for making my first riddle a sucess! :D Okay, That makes sense. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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My first riddle:
My friends all tire, the days grow dark.
So here I'll sit among the bark.
The color the sky will color the ground,
and soon I will hear not a sound.
I turn my back to frozen sky,
It does sting more than even I.
I tarry not far from the den.
The time for retreat will come, but when?
While my life sits upon the brink,
I'll sit and wait for you to think.
What am I?
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