Not Blue, but Green Is the SkyRiddles are little poems or phrases that pose a question that needs answering. Riddles frequently rhyme, but this is not a requirement.
My rings tell such a story
Of years past with gracious glory Where I live is where I stay From that spot I cannot stray From my home man taketh me So they can erect another home, you see Many others bore into my sides These things that crawl and things that glide I weep with beauty or stand with grace Every year I shed myself to nourish my place What am I? What Next?
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