Mary's Literature

Mary is a phantom of Delight,
As fresh as a Rose in June,
Rippled with something of angelic Light,
Beyond a shadow of a winters Moon.
Ascending to a Beauty Goddess,
Not to be Left Behind,
Needs to Loved and Cherished,
Young but with an older mind.
Only you are sound in Ireland,
Reminisces and memories will never die,
Ecstasy in hearts, souls, and hands,
When she cries, I Cry.

You know this is the end,
Ya, Mary You are my best friend.