Many things am I, the foundation of many parts of life, in and outside the body, I make buildings steady, swords strong and when I decay red is all that's left.

In fields of green, I stand so bright, A golden sun in morning's light. With wishes blown, I take to flight, A gentle puff, I'm gone from sight.

Cleaned and polished in your drawer I sit Getting me dirty is a job that fits Big or small your face warps wide If you focus hard you can bend me with your mind

I roar and I slurp with greedy delight, I swallow your crumbs both day and night. Socks beware when I start to zoom, what am I, devourer of the room?

Bears the load of travellers Loses effectiveness at high ambient temperatures, Subject to high friction when in use Does not roll A simpler alternative to the above can be made from barn woods by the experienced