Sing! My dancing, happy muse,
Of this, my fearsome sword,
How it began a flaming ball
And through the heavens soared,
​
Till breaking deep into the earth,
Ore waiting to be mined,
Till someone dug it from the depths
And to Squanto did provide
​
There he beat the precious ore,
Sparks from it flew once more!
Blazing with his hammer’s stroke
Until perfect in its form.
​
Then Squanto passed his masterwork
To the merry gnome,
Tinkery is what she’s called
And from Tinkery my own.
​
And this might be the history
Of my peerless blade,
But in truth, sing on my muse,
Of what’s hidden in the shade,
​
For someone paid a heavy price
For me to wield this sword:
Their identity is hid from me,
So Tinkery has sworn.

So through a hidden person’s love
My story is enriched!
And so my quest to spread that love
Will never end while I exist!