Dwarf

In the hush of ancient hills they dwell,
Stout‑hearted dwarves with beards like braided wool,
Their hammers ring where crystal caverns swell,
Forging bright treasures in the mountain’s skull.

They tread the stone‑worn passages,
Where torchlight flickers on ruby seams,
Singing low, old songs of ages,
Echoes that outlast the fleeting dreams.

No giant’s stride, yet strength untold,
In every gem they set, a story’s told—
A steadfast folk, both bold and old,
Guarding riches more than gold.