Alida

When I decided to go down the poet's walk, I purchased a thick used anthology of poetry. I started with the familiar names. I read Yeats, Wordsworth, Frost and Thomas, and Edgar Allen Poe. I was also inspired by a photograph that I shot on a wet, foggy morning. It's a black and white photo of a neat row of tombstones in a churchyard. One name was clearly visible on the center stone: Alida

She came on a ship

from across the sea.

A chance meeting in church,

Alida and me.

A gaelic ginger

as fair as can be.

A soft freckled face,

I can still see.

So soon after marriage

we moved by the sea.

A cottage on a hill,

where we could be free.

Young love in a hurry

our souls became three.

We had a child,

Alida and me.

A mother's death after birth

Oh, how cruel fate can be.

We now meet in the churchyard,

Alida and me.

And as Poe might have written

in his kingdom by the sea;

I live for our daughter,

My Annabell Lee.