Set to Purpose

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Mine is the snow covered pines

of the risen land that

once held the riches of

family lore.

Mine is the tradition of yule,

grand exchanges of words

of prizes galore.

Mine is a sea of relations

conversing while tunes

of the season

are plucked upon a harp.

Mine is the tickling of the senses,

mulled cider and spice,

ale and spirits, shared by

memories of the versed and

the vagary of the budding.

Mine is the promise

of one’s life, set to purpose

as the close of one reign makes

way for another within the last

few ticks of time.

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