Jem's Shop With Dahdew

Jem's Shop With Dahdew Jem is an artist. Dahdew is a craftsman. Together we create unique products. Dahdew here. I'll have Jem write her own when she gets time. For NASA I created gels.

From 2006-2022 I was a prosthetist. Through my innovative approach to prosthesis I was able to land contracts with NASA and the US Navy. For the navy I created skins for robots that monitor water pressure on a humanoid body. More recently I've had children and started to use the skill sets I picked up professionally for my daughter's entertainment. Here I'll share works created primarily for my ow

n kids and significant other that others might also find interesting, amusing, or useful. The goal of this page is to spread love and creativity.

12/27/2025

The Patina Plated Paladin

Along the countryside, where hills embrace sky,
Tota watched a distant figure wander by.
An elderly woman among the vivid wilds
Musing over nature's beguiles

Her mule startled and kicked with such force,
Her cart leapt forth on a dangerous course.
It rolled downhill and toward a lake with frightening speed
At the end of the path stepped a man amongst the reed

Tota The Brave went quick to lend aid,
The knight readied in tarnished armor, unafraid.
Tota laughed at such a sight so near,
But heard the King's voice "have no fear."

White hair and balding, clad in patina tinged with rust,
he spoke of damsels, beasts, and his sword's mighty thrust.
The patinaed paladin, with ideas dancing in his head,
Drew his blade for this quest against dread.

Tota formed a bubble to ease the woman's distress
As the hero's blade rent the carriage a mess
All the world saw there was a rickety old wagon.
But in the knight's eyes, "there be a dragon."

The cart, smashed to pieces, and the old lady was free,
the wrinkled warrior knelt, to praise beauty's mystery.
He gave her a rare flower with a gentle kiss,
And stood to leave. "for more quests are amiss."

He spoke of evils and enemies that he must abate,
The old crone giggled, she felt a youthful state.
She wished him well, and he then departed,
Tota joined to muse upon the great hearted.

The corroded crusader confessed, the king was he,
But adventures must be kept secret by royal decree.
In guise of fool, he roamed the lands far and wide,
To touch the hearts of many from the countryside.

Tota danced, his laughter filled the air,
He assured the king this secret's not to share.
Together then, they roamed through field and glen,
Their tales of kindness echoing far and again.

Here's to old men, young gnomes, and the trials they embrace,
For in every act of compassion there is a triumph of grace.
May generations hence look for deeds to inspire,
To seek adventure, and lift the fallen higher.

12/27/2025

Warrior Lullaby

In the realm where fairies dance and play,
Queen Maia of the fairies could not stay.
To Burd Ellen's side, she flew with haste,
For urgent news, there was no time to waste.

"Dear Burd Ellen," Maia began with a sigh,
"For the chaos caused, I must apologize.
Rebellious sprites, under The Elf King's command,
Disrupted peace throughout your father's land."

Queen Maia's eyes, like sapphires, shone with care,
As she warned of a plot, twisted and unfair.
"King Arawn and The Witch Queen conspire at night,
To bring forth revenge, and challenge Childe's light."

With a gentle hand, Maia bestowed a ring,
A token of power, from the fairy king.
"To summon us forth, in your hour of need,
King Cornelius and I shall come with great speed."

She taught Burd Ellen songs of old days,
Ancient lullabies, woven in protective ways.
Their melodies strong, their words clear,
To shield her kingdom from all that they fear.

"Rest now Ellen, and let worries cease,
With these songs, you'll maintain peace.
And should danger come from land or sea,
This ring shall bring our aid to thee."

With a bow of her head, Queen Maia took flight,
Leaving young Ellen under the moon's soft light.
The queen of fairies, her promise would keep,
Assured by the vow, the young maiden did sleep.

Burd Ellen woke to a tale untold,
Of an enemy fierce and a knight bold.
Tota, with eyes like embers bright,
Spoke of a brother's perilous fight.

“Childe Rowland battles wing and claw,
Against a griffin from Elfland’s maw.”
“Come" Says Tota "with voice so fair,
Sing a lullaby to still the air.”

Childe Rowland’s sword, a radiant sun,
Struck at the beast, the battle begun.
Tota threw potions both new and old.
Vibrantly hued clouds when they explode.

The lads fought hard, and they were courageous.
Opposing their foe, undaunted and dangerous.
Yet none could halt its fearsome rage,
'Til young maiden’s song did beast engage.

The griffin paused, its heart beguiled,
By Burd Ellen’s tune, sweet and mild.
Tota's potions now trapped the beast in a bubble.
And Rowland's sword sends it back to Elfland on the double.

Childe Rowland, with gratitude deep,
Thanked his sister, "sorry about the sleep."
“But your song has tamed the wildest foe,
And brought peace to our lands below.”

Sir Rowland was brave but it was Tota who was wise.
Burd Ellen, damsel no more, now warrior of lullabies.
For in the realm where fairies dance and play,
Fair Ellen's melody still echoes to this very day.

12/01/2025

Garden Trolls

In the village as evening drapes in moonlight
Tota, gleefully, tiptoed through the night.
His red cap bounced as if detached.
It danced among shadows, mischief dispatched.

The villagers slept, their dreams aloft,
Worries and chores fade in beds so soft.
Tota, kindhearted, with nimble hands,
Completed their tasks as time demands.

He milked the cows, and stacked the firewood,
Swept the floors clean, and churned the butter good.
His work was so quick it swirled in the dark,
But as the villagers slumbered, nightmares embark.

As fate interrupts a new foe unseen,
And Tota’s path leads where dangers convene.
For lurking nearby, disguised as a man,
Mr. Miacca, a troll with a terrible plan.

Dreadful Miacca’s eyes burned with hunger
His sack thrown wide with the skill of a munger.
He snatched Tota swiftly, "I gotcha my boy!"
He chuckled, “Tonight, you’ll be my feast, oh joy.”

Through lunar laced forest, they hurried away,
Tota’s mind raced, his thoughts in disarray.
Mr. Miacca’s cottage loomed in the glade,
A place where secrets and shadows stayed.

Inside, a charred cauldron bubbled and steamed,
The aroma twisted Tota’s nose while a kettle screamed.
Mrs. Miacca, troll-wife with eyes like coal,
Greeted them both with a wicked grin’s scroll.

“Welcome, little morsel,” she hissed with delight,
“Mr. Miacca grows angry and fierce with appetite.
We feast on boy meat, tender and sweet,
Stewed in a pot, I'll start with your feet!”

Tota stood tall, well, as tall as he could,
His resolve unwavering, he did as he would.
“I am Tota,” he said, “a gnome of the glen,
And your husband’s stew won’t see my end.”

Mr. Miacca returned, herbs clutched in his hand,
His eyes narrowed, assessing the gnome’s stand.
“Enough chatter” he growled, club raised high,
“Human or not, you’ll make a fine meat pie!”

But Tota was swift, his pocket concealed,
A vial of starlight, its magic revealed.
He uncorked a flash, a solar flare,
Mr. Miacca froze, caught in its glare.

The troll turned to stone, and Mrs. Miacca too,
Their hunger forgotten, their ferocity through.
Tota beamed wide, for it was time to play,
He carried them both over village square way.

There they stood, statues of myth and might,
Mr. and Mrs. Miacca, trolls frozen by starlight.
The villagers awoke, their laughter unbound,
For gnome and troll had turned their world around.

And so, in dawn’s blush the children played.
And sang, and cheered, around the statues displayed.
The village adorned with stone trolls so grand,
Thanks to Tota’s courage and magic’s command.

If you wander the glade when the moon is high,
Listen closely, you’ll hear laughter in the sky.
For gnomes in tales spun anew,
Dance forever in skies made blue.

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Wildwood, FL

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