Dwarf Runes And Tablets!

J. R. R. Tolkien created Elvish and Dwarf runes, and I have decided to make my own Dwarf runes for LARP games and so on. If you don't know what LARP is it's Live Action Role Playing, but that's not the point. I created a different set of Dwarf runes for other Dwarfs.The First Picture is of the Dwarf Rune Tablets, and the second is of the Dwarf rune sheet!

The Lord Of The Rings Poem!

All that is gold does not glitter,

Not all those who wander are lost,

The old that is strong does not wither,

Deep roots are not reached by the frost,

From the ashes a fire shall be woken,

A light from the shadows shall spring;

Renewed shall be blade that was broken:

The crownless again shall be king.

J. R. R. Tolkien

The Daffodils

I wandered lonely as a cloud
   That floats on high o’er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
   A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine
   And twinkle on the Milky Way,
They stretched in never-ending line
   Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced, but they
   Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:
A Poet could not but be gay,
   In such a jocund company:
I gazed—and gazed—but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I lie
   In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
   Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.

Monday's Child Is Fair Of Face

Monday's child is fair of face,

Tuesday's child is full of grace,

Wednesday's child is full of woe,

Thursday's child has far to go,

Friday's child is loving and giving,

Saturday's child works hard for a living,

But the child who is born on the Sabbath Day

Is bonny and blithe and good and gay

The Old House

The old house sits sad and alone,
Remembering days it was a home,
Now it cracks and leans and creaks,
And frowns at the rain when it leaks.

In every breeze it moans and groans,
Chilled to its rickety timber bones,
It cannot withstand another storm,
An old wreck it will form.

The empty eyes are mourning,
Each forgotten, pleasant morning,
The old house was a home,
But now it sits sad and alone.

3D Bunny Chicken!

I maid this on Tinkrad :

My Wee Little Cabin

I live in a wee little cabin,

That smells of the finest things,

Of cinnamon, of ginger, nutmeg, and pine,

And sometimes some blueberry muffins of mine.

It’s small; it’s dear; it’s a gingerbread house,

My wee elfin yard is a woodsy hollow,

With trees a-swishing and birds a-singing,

And wee little me just happily living.

By Aurora J Pass