Gold in a leather bag, swinging on a tree, money after honey in its time. Ills of a scurvy crew cured by the sea, reason in its season but no rhyme.

Gold in a leather bag, swinging on a tree, money after honey in its time. Ills of a scurvy crew cured by the sea, reason in its season but no rhyme.

Other Food Riddles

If you are a sore loser, you are often called the sour variety of this fruit.

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Food

What kind of a nut has a hole?

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I have in me potatoes my name is semeler to a day

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Food

Alight or in dark, my face is a leer. In a field with my brothers, you’ll find me without bother, For that autumn day is mine.

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Food

The sun bakes them, The hand breaks them, The foot treads them, The mouth tastes them.

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Food

Riddle of the Day

Jul 29, 2026

Of no use to one, Bliss to two. Men lie for it. The baby’s right,

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