A Memory Poem by Elizabeth Tudor

One night of a nearly forgotten life,
we sat together in the moonlit garden
near a vase of irises and crocuses,
wove anemones into each other's hair
and took turns playing upon a lyre,
while the moon outshone lamplight
and cast everything lucid pale blue,
the marble bench, the irises and you.

I had to leave. There were things,
far away thing I had to do. I didn't,
no, I didn't want to to leave you ever.
I said to you, I will love you forever.
You, my hyacinth, my heart's content,
whispered to me then that somehow,
someday, we'd find each other again.
And you told me to wear saffron.