I.
My cousin has a fuzzy head
_But I am bald instead.
I cannot give your hand a shake
_But I will let you take
A bite of me, appreciate
_The hunger that I sate.
II.
A visitor you’ll find on paths in Spring
Who mostly has a sunny disposition.
But later on he grows too pale to sing
And starts to dwell on life’s decomposition.
He fears your friendly breath will one day sting
And cast his life up to the wind’s discretion.
III.
You might just find me anywhere; you can’t
Be sure. But don’t get mad and start to pant;
I’m not that bad—no poison ivy plant.
I’ll do no harm to you besides this rant,
Which I deliver upside down and slant.
(I’m also in this rhyming riddle’s cant.)
IV.
I come out when you need me most.
Without me you might be a ghost.
I thrive in air, don’t keep me in,
And do not poke me with a pin.
I’ll make your journey safe and sound
And bring your feet back to the ground.
V.
It’s cold and that is fine by me.
In fact the heat is what I fear;
It saps me of humanity.
Then to the drain my head draws near.
VI.
It was America’s bloodiest war
And from the enemy I’d score
An unconditional surrender.
I’d be the highest ranked commander
To serve the sixteenth president
Until his life was sadly rent.
VII.
If you are a saucy fellow
I’ll keep you warm and close to me.
But I won’t greet you with hello,
I’ll doff my bonnet cordially.
VIII.
Where swans reside on a mountain peek,
A fairytale that many seek,
Whose maker remains a mystery—
Call him “mad” or “His Majesty.”
Poet’s Note: Post your guesses in the comments.
Evan Mantyk teaches literature and history in New York and is Editor of the Society of Classical Poets. His most recent books of poetry are Heroes of the East and West, and a translation of Sir Gawain and the Green Knight.
I appreciated your article in the Epoch Times a week or so ago concerning the teaching of the theory of evolution. The theory and all surrounding it never made sense to me.