Sometimes patchy when I roll in, a tease for what might have been. You'll cancel the trip if I don't lift; sail with me, the ship's adrift. Cast as mysterious, I'm hot and cold. The sun burns me up, water is gold. I sneak by on what fell, but a beacon of light does tell.
What am I? Answer: Fog!
Fairday's Riddles: Volume I
Make time to riddle and rhyme!
62 original riddles and illustrations
Available in all e-book formats