As if by loyal unloyalties,
She never did astray,
She always waited patiently,
That miraculous Mary May.
When she would talk,
Her voice was like an angel's,
Always sweet and pristine,
And so she was coveted by many so,
That mesmerizing Mary May.
Wherever she went,
The grass would grow greener,
And flowers would follow soon after,
So when she walked,
Many would follow,
That merry Mary May.
As noon crept up every day,
She would run out to the market,
And when she returned,
She found gifts at her doorstep,
That mortified Mary May.
When Sunday would approach,
She'd run out to church,
And take her place in the choir,
And all the people from all of the land,
Would praise that musical Mary May.
YOU ARE READING
Where All Dawn Breaks - A Poetry Book
PoesíaThis is a collection of poetry, both mine and not. If it was written by somebody else, credit will be given as possible.
