A birthday present to my Sir Uncle Koron, on his 100th birthday.

Within the passing turns of fate
A path of gold, a tale of old;
We all know well the timeless gate
From which we wander in this world.

Grasp the path a hundred hence
For once upon this time immense:
A steady gleam has found its way
Through escapades of night and day.

It wanders down this loom of space
And finds some likewise threads of grace;
In threads of honor, faith and good
The path has woven through and stood.

Now, here and there among the cluster
Bonds were forged in knots of luster;
Henceforth wove this path ascending
Gaining brightness in transcending-

The path of old has weathered wise
Assured in judgement of our eyes;
This path we follow, as it stood
Now leads in honor, faith, and good.

Looking back through storms in time
A hundred years, they glint and shine;
Then tales aglow and tales now none
Reflect on all that's past and done-

So, From this glass I cry my cheers
A hope that all
May live to be a hundred years.


Penned by my hand on the 11th of Haernos, in the year 149 MA.