Axe-grinding groove

In ancient times, so long ago, A stone was used, this we know. To sharpen tools, with skill and care, A grindstone's magic filled the air. Like sandpaper, rough and strong, The grindstone's surface, oh so long. It rubbed and scraped, with friction's might, To make the tools sharp, oh what a sight. With each stroke, the edge grew fine, Removing material, oh so divine. The grindstone's grit, it had a say, Sharper or duller, it would portray. In Australia's land, so far and wide, Aboriginal peoples, with pride inside. They shaped their axes, strong and grand, Against sandstone outcrops, with their hand. Grinding grooves, they left behind, A testament to their skills, you'll find. The grindstone's legacy, forever told, In nursery rhymes, for young and old. Random page: Wu-Mart.com