For Alexa (poem)
by Kate Fitzsimons <fitzrose@EMAIL.MSN.COM>

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Highlander, Methos, Alexa, and all the other nice things I never
actually mention in this poem belong to Rysher etc. etc. etc., not 
the poet, a crying shame if you ask me.  Further, I haven't made a 
copper cent off of this, more's the pity

This is Methos's lament on his greatest sorrow.  This one is
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For Alexa


 Sweet is the sound of the wind in the trees,
Sweet each day from the first to the last,
 Sweet is the song of the birds by the stream,
But no sweeter than what has just passed,
 Ah, how I love you, my sweeting, my dear,
The bravest love I've ever known,
 Now you have left me to face life's strange winds,
Without you, soul naked, alone.

 I do not blame you for going, I can't,
You held life, but you knew how to leave,
 And though I will miss you and mourn you, my pet,
For your sake I won't live but to greive;
 I will live as you wished it, and go on in joy,
Savor each day and each love as they come,
 I will not sit lone, and I will not forget,
Let your death turn me stone, cold, and numb.

 I will remember your voice, and the feel of your hair,
Your wonder, your strength, and your life,
 And though there will be many now, and were many before,
I love you, my sixty-ninth wife.

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