A Riddle in the Old English Style
Old English riddles can be found in the Exeter Book. These riddles, as well as other Anglo Saxon writings, are divided into two half-lines. There are two beats to the half-line. Further, the style calls for alliterative verse characterized by consonants to create a staccato effect and "roughness" of a Germanic language. Many of the riddles were written by monks who took pleasure in creating suggestive pieces with a mundane solution.
The assignment in my British Literature class was to write a riddle in this style.
My quirky creation, I’m dizzyingly dense,
now, living alone in deepest darkness,
blackest black of my own making,
I do dare searchers who seek me
directly discover my swarthy shape.
Find my effects, proof of position,
look for my light in hidden horizon,
blazingly bright, but valueless vision.
Nearby my neighbors rush to retreat,
but bringing them back, I forge their futures.
Orbiting aught they silently spin.
As pitch to the pooch, so rays from my region,
disrobing the dying clothing flung far.
Come close, eternity’s inception.
Don’t be deceived I own no honor.
Fascinating future ends in extinction.
Expectant imagination, dismal destruction.
Terrible tides to pull you apart,
hope goes to hell the closer you come.
We become one, but you, left a loser.
© 2006 All rights reserved.
The assignment in my British Literature class was to write a riddle in this style.
My quirky creation, I’m dizzyingly dense,
now, living alone in deepest darkness,
blackest black of my own making,
I do dare searchers who seek me
directly discover my swarthy shape.
Find my effects, proof of position,
look for my light in hidden horizon,
blazingly bright, but valueless vision.
Nearby my neighbors rush to retreat,
but bringing them back, I forge their futures.
Orbiting aught they silently spin.
As pitch to the pooch, so rays from my region,
disrobing the dying clothing flung far.
Come close, eternity’s inception.
Don’t be deceived I own no honor.
Fascinating future ends in extinction.
Expectant imagination, dismal destruction.
Terrible tides to pull you apart,
hope goes to hell the closer you come.
We become one, but you, left a loser.
© 2006 All rights reserved.
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