I Have Held

I have held this hour in my hands,
Enfolded within calloused palms.
The memory of your fair voice, gentleness,
The endless depth of your eyes.
Your blessing and the gift of your life for
All who would hear, or accept it
And even those who never would.
As sunlight that, when lowering,
Touches last of all the high tips of the trees
Setting them ablaze with gold and green
Against the grey-indigo sky
So you moved among yet above us,
My time with you seems now an
Unreachable glory of the past,
A work of minstrels and mages.
I shall not be unmindful of it,
For how could I forget?
I have held this hour in my hands.
The years have not brought about fading, no.
The Mallorn blooms as sweetly each year,
The leaf in my hand is yet golden and soft.

I let it fall from my fingers,
Absently drying the dew from them;
Walking home in the fading light,
I shall remember you.

- Primula