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Senior Riddles

Seniors in British Literature are starting the year off with the Anglo-Saxon period (449 -1066).  This time period was characterized by warring clans, feasting in mead halls, stories of sea monsters and dragons, and the legendary hero Beowulf.  A form of Anglo-Saxon entertainment was the riddle.  Riddles are word games in which an everyday object is described in an unusual way.  Here is a sample Anglo-Saxon riddle:


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.


            So, could you figure it out?  It’s an onion! After reading six riddles, I asked the seniors to write their own riddles.  Here are their favorites (with answers, of course!).


By McKenzie Bahns, Jesse Gall, and Stephen Gustin

When my hair grows long, I get it cut. 

My stems get smashed and broken every time you line them up.

I may be wet, I may be dry,

But when I’m done I become a pie.



By Bridget Dinslage, Kaleb Papousek, and John Steffensmeier

If dropped, I am back where I started.

Heat and pressure makes me unite. 

My millions can be found at the bottom of the ocean along with sunken ships.




By Libby Janousek and Nick Urbanek

I am your friend when you are scared.

I can be long or short in many shapes and sizes.

Push my button, and I will get hot.

I’m silent when I work, but you know I’m there.

I do my best work when you don’t know what’s there.




By Abbey Hamernik, Erika Rupprecht, and Trine Svendsen

When you were young, you rather liked me

‘Cause I was small and growing slightly.

But as you grew, so did I,

And now you quite despise me.

So as you pass, I will stand still,

And be engraved in stone and hill.




By Lucas Gurnsey, Sydney Novak, and Trent Pekny

I’m something you can’t keep until you give me away.

I may be long.  I may be short.

I can build while also destroying. 

I can be “loud” while being quiet.

(a secret)



By Hannah Baumert, Thomas Bunner, and Jadine Wiese

I come from what I was before. 

The eye is from where I emerge.

It’s dark and cold where I am from.

On the outside I am lush and beautiful.

From me are many things formed.

(a potato)

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