The old ones linger round my house in mood of late
Moon’s fullness at harvest__brings more than bounty to my door
Leaves of colour, swirl past steamy windows__in bleak of rain
Aromas spice, impervious to time__permeates all rooms
      I rise once more

Days of frosty, brisk winter air__breathing over my skin
Paintings dear father__on windowpanes sketched
      for Christmas to begin
A lantern of welcome__shimmering icicles, wavering
      drawn to the wind
Dipped scented candles, ribbons of red__and the story of Tim

Distance failed deny memories to the core of a little girl’s heart
Always to prevail in true evergreen and remain a part
of the child each Eve of season__pending years__now rapidly run
And this child lingers on, in devout perseverence
      till memory pales with the sun