Riddles from the Shelf

Greetings strong friends,

I'm a little behind on chapter 3 of Delivering Trouble, but that is because I'm also working on my new collection of poems. The good news are that I'm done with all the poems for the collection and now I'm working on the layout. It takes a long time, but I'm getting there. The collection is called 'Riddles from the Shelf' and in this post I will share 5 poems. I'm very proud of all of my work and I really hope that you will enjoy and like it too. 

I will finish chapter 3 as soon as possible and have it ready for you.

Until then, I hope you enjoy these poetic riddles. :)



Spinning Truths

I never choose a path to take,
Yet show the way when maps all break.
My needle twitch is not for show,
It dances where the strong winds blow.

I’m pocket-sized, but sharp and sly,
I point while others pass me by.
Though round in shape, I’m not a ball,
Still, folks consult me most of all.

A hiking pal, a sailor’s guide,
I’m calm while others run or hide.
No mouth to speak, no legs to race,
Yet I can find the truest place.



The Silver Thief

I sneak beside your scrambled eggs,
I chase the peas that roll with legs,
I jab the sausage, bold and quick,
And snatch up bites both small and thick.

I shimmer in the morning light,
I duel with steak without a fight,
I’m never sharp, yet still I win,
My prongs dive gracefully right in.

At fancy feasts or midnight snacks,
I lead the charge, no time to relax,
A trusty tool, both sly and sleek,
The hungry call me when they seek.



Master of the Couch

I sit upon my royal throne,
Commanding screens with just a moan.
With buttons small and mighty hand,
I rule the pixels of this land.

No need to rise or stretch or strain,
One flick and dragons breathe again.
A single press, the volume soars,
Then silence falls like closing doors.

I've lost myself beneath the seat,
Between the chips and something sweet.
But once I'm found, the power is mine,
To change the world… One channel at a time.



The Table Guardian

I sit beneath your drink with pride,
No splash escapes, no dribble hides.
I take the hits, the sweats, the stains,
And never once do I complain.

My job is dull, but I’m no fool,
I’m round, I’m flat, I keep things cool.
Though I don't speak, I serve with grace,
Preventing marks you can’t erase.

You lift me up, then set me down,
A humble knight without a crown.
Your mug may claim the glory, sure,
But I’m the one who guards the floor.



Office Predator

I lurk beside the paper stack,
With silver teeth and jaws that crack,
I feast on metal bites so small,
Yet leave no mark or wound at all.

Your tidy files, I love to tease,
I pry them open with gentle ease,
One little snap, a click, a grin,
And freedom slips right out again.

I’m small, I’m sharp, I gleam with pride,
A rebel tool you keep beside,
When paper is bound and stuck too tight,
I’m the one who sets it right.



Again, I hope you enjoyed them. There's more poems to come in the future! 


Thank you for the vist and your time. 

Much appreciated and best regards,

Kasper F. Christiansen

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