*This original poem won me Bardic Champion for my small Shire
Today the brush is his sword
each stroke precise as his word
Tomorrow the sword is his brush
red paint will flow in a rush
Art in his movement
Flexed, crafting his treasures
Carving Intricate dragons
Who will shield him from axes
sketching beautiful runes
that will guard as he relaxes
He sews strength
* I wrote this about my man as he crafted a shield that has won him an Arts & Science competition and many battles.
Bardic Quill 