It only speaks with lolling tongue
*** Thursday Riddles will resume July 31 ***
When planted, never grows;
It spans a common measure;
Two shape an act of skill that shows
One’s strength despite the pressure.
Around it goes
With its sharp, little nose;
Can opens, but can’t close.
Never travels, stays in bed
Yet compelled to rest ahead.
This natter said.
From many a darkness releases,
For true can it be only when it is shared;
Born of metals, rises, settles,
Beckons undeparted petals
And all when the end is met;
In a caliph’s epithet.
My mother is heavy, my father is light,
And though you can see me, you can never free me
From where I exist taking all in my sight.
I’m given, I’m taken, I’m seldom forsaken,
I can be forgotten, cause pain when I’m lost,
I’m mostly defended whatever the cost,
And often encountered engraved or embossed.
Strike me to start me,
To end, just depart me,
You need at least two
To carry me through.
It rises and falls like the snarl of a beast
Whose breath lingers hot on my ear,
A savage determined to render me feast?
The thought of it fills me with fear;
Then even as sorely I pity my plight,
I hear now a whistle, the coos of a child,
Then what sounds like rustle of leaves in the night,
Now guttural calls of the wild.
But when I can bear it no more,
I wake my beloved, who barely does rise
When all of the din dissipates with a roar
And leaves me to wonder if all of this madness
Is noises my brain did devise.