In answer to the Bard / Scribe / Illuminator Challenge at Bardic Madness V
North the great plains are lit by cold curtains; Old hills, black as night, form gates to the west. Rolling seas shape us; our eastern border; Travelling southward, a border of friends. Here we are compassed by guardians old. Summertime wanes and color surrounds us; Harvest brings joy and thanksgiving to all. In quiet houses we welcome our friends, Ever long wintertime; still we are warm. Lingering snowdrifts while songbirds return, Doors open wide now to welcome the spring. Princes are chosen near Midsummer's Eve Royalty welcomed in November snows. In barony, shire, canton and ville, Dreamers and doers travel in time. Everything old and good made new again.