A Rose for the Master

- Primula
Among the plants he loved so well,
Beneath the blossoms bright,
I set my earth-touched trowel down,
And squint up to the light.

The ale last night was mighty fine,
The songs were lightly done;
But memories of food and kin
Seem lost under this sun.

Has it been so long, since he set sail?
This rose was not so tall,
'Twas but a twig, a grafted bud,
And now it shades us all.

The rose was his idea, too,
A fine graft brought and kept.
Blue roses he'd seen far from home,
Beside the green door's step.

But he seem'd to fail as in a drought,
Unnoticed in the shade,
I tried to plant him deep and strong -
Tho' my care stopped not the fade.

Too deeply pruned, too deeply cut,
His leaves stripped by that Ring;
I hope wherever he's gone to now,
There are roses in the spring.


For jan-u-wine, who wrote Samwise, Gardener.