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Mary, Mary.

Mary, Mary, so quiet, and so still
Come sit by my side, at the edge of the mill
Hear the brook, babble.
As it climbs over the weir
See the wheel spinning, with a swoosh, and a swirl
As it turns the wheel slowly
To bring power to the mill
To grind ears of corn, barley, or wheat
To make flour for the bread
The villagers will eat
To make them grow strong
To work in the fields
To gather the corn to take to the mill
That will be ground into flour
By the great wheels of stone
Then into sacks and off into town
To buy you a bonnet for your wedding gown.

W.J.K.

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Just a country tale, not about you Mary, honest.

Comments

  • aspen
    aspenover 6 years ago

    a lovely wee poem… a pleasure to read…

  • Thanks aspen, its just a country tale

    – papadad

  • Thomas Josiah Chappelle
    Thomas Josiah ...over 6 years ago

    ….and that’s how the water wheel turnz….. (-;~

  • Thanks Tommyjo,appreciate your comment.

    – papadad

  • Thomas Josiah Chappelle
    Thomas Josiah ...over 6 years ago

    make no mistake , i find it has great wit with a very fond closing….

  • Thanks again Tommyjo, dont know about the wit or the fond closing but we do our best, good luck.

    – papadad

  • Thomas Josiah Chappelle
    Thomas Josiah ...over 6 years ago

    tis all that can be dun, sire!

  • No need for Sire just call me Bill.

    – papadad

  • Thomas Josiah Chappelle
    Thomas Josiah ...over 6 years ago

    Bill, it is…Not Liam?

  • papadad
    papadadover 6 years ago

    Liam’s ok its more Irish than Scottish so I guess Bill it is. thanks

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