My Dearest Frank, I Wish You Joy
My dearest Frank, I wish you joy
Of Mary's safety with a Boy,
Whose birth has given little pain
Compared with that of Mary Jane.--
May he a growing Blessing prove,
And well deserve his Parents' Love!--
Endow'd with Art's and Nature's Good,
Thy Name possessing with thy Blood,
In him, in all his ways, may we
Another Francis WIlliam see!--
Thy infant days may he inherit,
THey warmth, nay insolence of spirit;--
We would not with one foult dispense
To weaken the resemblance.
May he revive thy Nursery sin,
Peeping as daringly within,
His curley Locks but just descried,
With 'Bet, my be not come to bide.'--
Fearless of danger, braving pain,
And threaten'd very oft in vain,
Still may one Terror daunt his Soul,
One needful engine of Controul
Be found in this sublime array,
A neigbouring Donkey's aweful Bray.
So may his equal faults as Child,
Produce Maturity as mild!
His saucy words and fiery ways
In early Childhood's pettish days,
In Manhood, shew his Father's mind
Like him, considerate and Kind;
All Gentleness to those around,
And anger only not to wound.
Then like his Father too, he must,
To his own former struggles just,
Feel his Deserts with honest Glow,
And all his self-improvement know.
A native fault may thus give birth
To the best blessing, conscious Worth.
As for ourselves we're very well;
As unaffected prose will tell.--
Cassandra's pen will paint our state,
The many comforts that await
Our Chawton home, how much we find
Already in it, to our mind;
And how convinced, that when complete
It will all other Houses beat
The ever have been made or mended,
With rooms concise, or rooms distended.
You'll find us very snug next year,
Perhaps with Charles and Fanny near,
For now it often does delight us
To fancy them just over-right us.--
poem by Jane Austen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
What's The New Mary Jane
She looks as an african queen,
She eating twelve chapattis and cream,
She tastes as mongolian lamb,
She coming from out of bahran.
What a shame mary jane
Had a pain at the party.
What a shame mary jane.
What a shame mary jane
Had a pain at the party.
She like to be married with yeti,
He grooving such cooky spaghetti,
She jumping as mexican bean
To make that her body more thin.
What a shame mary jane
Had a pain at the party.
What a shame mary jane.
What a shame mary jane
Had a pain at the party.
She catch patagonian pancake
With that one a gin party makes.
She having all the ways good contacts,
She making with apple an contract.
What a shame mary jane
Had a pain at the party.
What a shame mary jane.
What a shame mary jane
Had a pain at the party.
All together now:
What a shame mary jane
Had a pain at the party.
What a shame mary jane.
What a shame mary jane
Had a pain at the party.
She looks as an african queen,
She tastes as mongolian lamb.
What a shame mary jane
Had a pain at the party.
What a shame mary jane.
What a shame mary jane
Had a pain at the party.
What a shame mary jane
Had a pain at the party.
What a shame mary jane.
What a shame mary jane
Had a pain at the party.
song performed by by Beatles
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I was too....
I was too busy to concentrate on daughter
With her funny ways I used to burst in laughter
Such was her sweet voice and innocent face
I was running behind her with little slow space
Days were riding on with high speed wind
Where was the time to think and find?
She was growing with faster pace
I too was too left out of the race
Alas! I could stop the time with imagination
She was lovely child borne out of good combination
Life was full of joy and she was our only hope
Suddenly I found myself walking on tight rope
It increased my pulse rate as it reminded me of something
She was opening up
as rose and I was ageing
What would be her fate or future in coming days?
What should I do for her to find the easy ways?
Her innocent days were just yesterday’s talk
It was gripping my mind when I used to go for walk
Was it not the genuine concern on part of father?
The thought itself was driving me further and further
She must be parted with very good education
At no stage in life she should feel alone or suffocation
She must have all the training as required
I immediately put my plan in action and enquired
She will come out as brilliant child
Intelligent, wise, beautiful and mild
She must be at heart very generous and kind
No one would think bad of her and mind
Normally what all parents think and do?
Wish that their kids prosper and pass through
Nothing should hamper their growth and future
They should get settled in their life tenure
I was no exception and thought the same
Her young age and maturity all off suddenly came
It left me thinking and in state of panic
It was not matter of joke or place for picnic
The Concern and fear made my nights barren
Change was unexpected and came all of sudden
I used to murmur in sleep and sake up at night’
“Must think and take steps” I thought it right
As wife had left amidst half way of the sea
She was only child of our love of tree
It was my only desire to see her in comforts
I had to concentrate my energy and double the efforts
I am very much sure of her golden days
She is humorous but must find ways
I have high hope in her to top and excel
Life should not contentious and pass well
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Mary Jane
Now when I go to work, I work all day,
Always turns out the same.
When I bring home my hard-earned pay
I spend my money all on mary jane.
Mary jane, mary jane, lord, my mary jane.
Oh if a man should look tame now, mean and mature,
They all turn out the same.
cause they cant do nothing to make a man feel good
Like my old mary jane.
Mary jane, mary jane, lord, my mary jane.
Now I walk in the street now lookin for a friend
One that can lend me some change.
And he never questions my reason why,
cause he too loves mary jane.
Mary jane, mary jane, lord, my mary jane.
Well, I have known women that wanted no man,
Some that wanted to stay.
But I never knew what happened in this world
Till I met up with mary jane,
Mary jane, mary jane, lord my mary jane.
Oh, when Im feelin lonesome and Im feelin blue,
Theres only one way to change.
Now I walk down the street now lookin for a man,
One that knows my mary jane,
Mary jane, mary jane, lord my mary jane.
song performed by by Janis Joplin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Only In Your Heart
Mary, have you seen better days?
And will you find different ways?
And does he really mean that much to your heart?
Carry, all of the weight you can, find another man
And lead him directly there to the source
Youve got to chart his course
cause it is only in your heart
This thing that makes you want to
Start it all again
(la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la)
Wake up from an elusive dream
Youve got to change the scene
Its getting so hard to see to the end
Break down, all of the walls you can
You need a helping hand
Im sure theres someone there just for you
Hes trying to make it, too
cause it is only in your heart
This thing that makes you want to
Start it all again
(la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la)
Only in your heart
This thing that makes you want to
Start it all again
(la, la, la, la)
You cant disregard your friends
But life gets so hard when you reach the end
Mary, have you seen better days?
(mary, have you seen better days? )
Mary, have you seen better days?
(mary, have you seen better days? )
Mary, have you seen better days?
(mary, have you seen better days? )
Mary, have you seen better days?
(mary, have you seen better days? )
song performed by by America
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To Mary
THE twentieth year is well-nigh past,
Since first our sky was overcast;
Ah would that this might be the last!
My Mary!
Thy spirits have a fainter flow,
I see thee daily weaker grow —
'Twas my distress that brought thee low,
My Mary!
Thy needles, once a shining store,
For my sake restless heretofore,
Now rust disus'd, and shine no more,
My Mary!
For though thou gladly wouldst fulfil
The same kind office for me still,
Thy sight now seconds not thy will,
My Mary!
But well thou play'dst the housewife's part,
And all thy threads with magic art
Have wound themselves about this heart,
My Mary!
Thy indistinct expressions seem
Like language utter'd in a dream;
Yet me they charm, whate'er the theme,
My Mary!
Thy silver locks, once auburn bright,
Are still more lovely in my sight
Than golden beams of orient light,
My Mary!
For could I view nor them nor thee,
What sight worth seeing could I see?
The sun would rise in vain for me,
My Mary!
Partakers of thy sad decline,
Thy hands their little force resign;
Yet, gently prest, press gently mine,
My Mary!
And then I feel that still I hold
A richer store ten thousandfold
Than misers fancy in their gold,
My Mary!
Such feebleness of limbs thou prov'st,
That now at every step thou mov'st
Upheld by two; yet still thou lov'st,
My Mary!
And still to love, though prest with ill,
In wintry age to feel no chill,
With me is to be lovely still,
My Mary!
But ah! by constant heed I know,
How oft the sadness that I show
Transforms thy smiles to looks of woe,
My Mary!
And should my future lot be cast
With much resemblance of the past,
Thy worn-out heart will break at last.
My Mary!
poem by William Cowper
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Rice Pudding
What is the matter with Mary Jane?
She's crying with all her might and main,
And she won't eat her dinner - rice pudding again -
What is the matter with Mary Jane?
What is the matter with Mary Jane?
I've promised her dolls and a daisy-chain,
And a book about animals - all in vain -
What is the matter with Mary Jane?
What is the matter with Mary Jane?
She's perfectly well, and she hasn't a pain;
But, look at her, now she's beginning again! -
What is the matter with Mary Jane?
What is the matter with Mary Jane?
I've promised her sweets and a ride in the train,
And I've begged her to stop for a bit and explain -
What is the matter with Mary Jane?
What is the matter with Mary Jane?
She's perfectly well and she hasn't a pain,
And it's lovely rice pudding for dinner again!
What is the matter with Mary Jane?
poem by Alan Alexander Milne
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Biggest gain
Did you not see the pain behind?
Happiness and peace nowhere to find
Only rising waves to meet the silence shore
What else did you see or found more?
Did you not see my inviting eyes?
So many questions to ask for why’s
Always eager to receive peace signals
Some comforts to feel upon its arrivals
I keep face smiling so you do not mind
Upheaval in mind still to reflect very kind
Complete Camouflage to find those beautiful tears
Does not come out but intolerably bears
You find me naughty just for a second
It tells you something for arrival of wind
Feel little warmth if no hidden pain
I shall consider it life’s biggest gain
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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The Author's Early Life
I will write a sketch of my early life,
It will be of childhood day,
And all who chance to read it,
No criticism, pray.
My childhood days were happy,
And it fills my heart with woe,
To muse o'er the days that have passed by
And the scenes of long ago.
In the days of my early childhood,
Kent county was quite wild,
Especially the towns I lived in
When I was a little child.
I will not speak of my birthplace,
For if you will only look
O'er the little poem, My Childhood Days,
That is in this little book.
I am not ashamed of my birthright,
Though it was of poor estate,
Many a poor person in our land
Has risen to be great.
My parents were poor, I know, kind friends,
But that is no disgrace;
They were honorable and respected
Throughout my native place.
My mother was an invalid,
And was for many a year,
And I being the eldest daughter
Her life I had to cheer.
I had two little sisters,
And a brother which made three,
And dear mother being sickly,
Their care it fell on me.
My parents moved to Algoma
Near twenty-three years ago,
And bought one hundred acres of land,
That's a good sized farm you know.
It was then a wilderness,
With tall forest trees abound,
And it was four miles from a village,
Or any other town.
And it was two miles from a schoolhouse,
That's the distance I had to go,
And how many times I traveled
Through summer suns and winter snow.
How well do I remember
Going to school many a morn,
Both in summer and in winter,
Through many a heavy storm.
My heart was gay and happy,
This was ever in my mind,
There is better times a coming,
And I hope some day to find
Myself capable of composing.
It was by heart's delight,
To compose on a sentimental subject
If it came in my mind just right.
If I went to school half the time,
It was all that I could do;
It seems very strange to me sometimes,
And it may seem strange to you.
It was natural for me to compose,
And put words into rhyme,
And the success of my first work
Is this little song book of mine.
My childhood days have passed and gone,
And it fills my heart with pain
To think that youth will nevermore
Return to me again.
And now kind friends, what I have wrote,
I hope you will pass o'er,
And not criticise as some have done,
Hitherto herebefore.
poem by Julia A Moore
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Happy Birthday to you.
Christmas mass at twelve,
To mark the birth of a kid,
When Mary bore her son,
Joseph was so gracious.
Took her son in his hand,
Wiped out the body fluid,
Cleaned Him, not bathed,
The arrival of a messiah untied.
Calves and the cows looked after Him,
Chirping birds and insects made the lullaby,
Mary, the mother, was too tired,
While the cute infant was taken care.
Let the baby boy has his good sleep,
He has a duty to do on his Father’s Instruction,
Let the infant feels the warmth of His mummy,
He needs to endure the shocking reality.
An infant who has been adored since young,
He has a crown and a cloak of white and red,
He stands on the globe with His kind look,
Happy Birthday to you., Jesus of Nazareth.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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How Mary Grew
With wisdom far beyond her years,
And graver than her wondering peers,
So strong, so mild, combining still
The tender heart and queenly will,
To conscience and to duty true,
So, up from childhood, Mary Grew!
Then in her gracious womanhood
She gave her days to doing good.
She dared the scornful laugh of men,
The hounding mob, the slanderer's pen.
She did the work she found to do,--
A Christian heroine, Mary Grew!
The freed slave thanks her; blessing comes
To her from women's weary homes;
The wronged and erring find in her
Their censor mild and comforter.
The world were safe if but a few
Could grow in grace as Mary Grew!
So, New Year's Eve, I sit and say,
By this low wood-fire, ashen gray;
Just wishing, as the night shuts down,
That I could hear in Boston town,
In pleasant Chestnut Avenue,
From her own lips, how Mary Grew!
And hear her graceful hostess tell
The silver-voiced oracle
Who lately through her parlors spoke
As through Dodona's sacred oak,
A wiser truth than any told
By Sappho's lips of ruddy gold,--
The way to make the world anew,
Is just to grow--as Mary Grew
poem by John Greenleaf Whittier
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No More A Place In My Mind, As Before, For You!
Father, though not with us, causal are you to much of my pain!
Naught would I not do though still to see you once again!
Opine would I to you as to why you chose your path-
Many different choices, many different ways the world hath!
In many ways were you my hero- in many ways my opposite:
Why and how could you live with yourself, I would posit!
Happy Birthday to you Father- perhaps best that you're gone-
Allowance made it is for less anger- after your dawn!
I've met someone Father, who I believed only to be a fantasy-
She falsely believed I was as you- though a tremendous falsity!
Amazing though she certainly is- very much too, fragile-
Make well again her heart and mind- mine own domicile!
My Father, once my hero, I bid you now adieu!
No more a place in my mind, as before, for you!
Maurice Harris,7 January 2008
poem by Maurice Harris
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The Faces Of Our Women
Mary didn't give birth to God.
Mary isn't the mother of God.
Mary is one mother among many mothers.
Mary gave birth to a son,
a son among many sons.
That's why Mary is so beautiful in all the pictures of her.
That's why Mary's son is so close to us, like our own sons.
The faces of our women are the book of our pains.
Our pains, our faults and the blood we shed
carve scars on the faces of our women like plows.
And our joys are reflected in the eyes of women
like the dawns glowing on the lakes.
Our imaginations are on the faces of women we love.
Whether we see them or not, they are before us,
closest to our realities and furthest.
poem by Nazim Hikmet
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Shallow Days
Mary jane says its all right
Shes just around the corner from the main light.
Any day now, its all right
Shes standing on the precipice of big time.
And I know Im a little uptight,
Ive got to go before the sun shines.
Were just a couple small people squeezing out a life,
We need a little good time.
Its not far from here,
Mary comes and goes.
Drifting through the scenery of the shallow days below,
That is anybody knows.
You follow trains out of town and they vanish somewhere under the horizon.
Yeah well I saw mary jane dragged her shadow down the tracks,
Stare off in the distance.
Its not far from here,
Mary waves hello.
Smiling though shes sinking in the shallow days below,
I cant find a way out of here.
Out on the road again,
Im much, much too concerned about mary jane.
Im all alone again,
I like what she said, not what it means.
She leaves me drowning through the shallow days, down below.
You know I heard a band playing waltzes in a grange hall
The sun is sinking lower.
People staring, mary jane humming softly to herself,
Nobody really knows her.
Any day now its all right,
She tells herself that this will be the last time.
Mary jane pulls her hair back and wonders what shell do with all her
Freetime.
Not too far from here,
Mary turns to go.
Smiling while the waltz begins, dancing down the road
Hey hey mr. freedom,
What are we supposed to think?
cause Im a very tiny person and it worries me.
Im all alone again,
I like what she says, not what it means.
She leaves me drowning in the shallow days way down below.
Im sorry, she said,
I know its not the kind of thing you want.
Im falling, falling down.
Im sorry, she said.
I know Im not the kind of girl you want.
Were falling, falling, falling, falling down.
song performed by by Counting Crows
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To Mary in Heaven
I.
I met thee first in May, Mary!
The flower-crowned month of May;
But now thou art away, Mary!
Away from me—away!
Thou wert that all to me, Mary!
That all on earth to me,
That I will be to thee, Mary!
In Heaven above to thee.
II.
Ah! then thine eyes were mild, Mary!
Thy deep blue eyes were mild;
For thou wert then a child, Mary!
And I another child.
Thou wert that all to me, Mary!
That all on earth to me,
That I will be to thee, Mary!
In Heaven above to thee.
III.
Thy face was then so meek, Mary!
So saintly mild, so meek,
Thy lily-form seemed weak, Mary!
And mine for thine grew weak
For thou wert that to me, Mary!
That all on earth to me,
That I will be to thee, Mary!
In Heaven above to thee.
IV.
You led me through the meads, Mary!
The flower-enameled meads,
By brooks of rustling reeds, Mary!
By brooks of rustling reeds—
Where thou wert that to me, Mary!
That all on earth to me,
That I will be to thee, Mary!
In Heaven above to thee.
V.
Wherever you then went, Mary!
No matter where you went—
I followed with content, Mary!
Because you were content.
For thou wert that to me, Mary!
That all on earth to me,
That I will be to thee, Mary!
In Heaven above to thee.
VI.
I recollect the morn, Mary!
The beautiful May-Morn,
Beside the Field of Corn, Mary!
The rustling reeds of Corn—
That thou wert that to me, Mary!
That all on earth to me,
That I will be to thee, Mary!
In Heaven above to thee.
VII.
Ah! then I took thy hand, Mary!
Thy lily snow-white hand;
And walked along the sand, Mary!
The milk-white road of sand.
For thou wert that to me, Mary!
That all on earth to me,
That I will be to thee, Mary!
In Heaven above to thee.
VIII.
I caught thee round the waist, Mary!
The slender Sylph-like waist,
And felt my heart beat fast, Mary!
Because thine own beat fast.
For thou wert that to me, Mary!
That all on earth to me,
That I will be to thee, Mary!
In Heaven above to thee.
IX.
Such words fell from thy tongue, Mary!
Such sweet words from thy tongue,
That when you talked you sung, Mary!
You never talked but sung.
Then thou wert that to me, Mary!
That all on earth to me,
That I will be to thee, Mary!
In Heaven above to thee.
X.
Thus through the month of May, Mary!
The flower-crowned month of May,
We, courting, went to play, Mary!
And courted in our play.
The years were then to me, Mary!
As hours are now to me;
As time is now to thee, Mary!
In Heaven above to thee.
XI.
For Love knows nought of years, Mary!
Love nothing knows of years;
And sheds no bitter tears, Mary!
Time measured is by tears.
Thus thou wert that to me, Mary!
That all on earth to me,
That I will be to thee, Mary!
In Heaven above to thee.
XII.
What thou art now above, Mary!
I was, as if above;
For Heaven is made of love, Mary!
And I was full of love.
For thou wert that to me, Mary!
That all on earth to me,
That I will be to thee, Mary!
In Heaven above to thee.
XIII.
But now these days are gone, Mary!
These halcyon days are gone!
And I am left alone, Mary!
Alone on earth-- alone!
What would I give to see, Mary!
Thy precious form to see?
All thou wouldst give to be, Mary!
In this dark world with me.
poem by Thomas Holley Chivers from Eonchs of Ruby (1851)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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God’s Full Blessing
For my God to fully bless you, you need to know the Savior too,
My Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, who came to give all New Life.
God bless you, men do say, but do they know God’s Only Way?
Without His Son, don’t bother, to seek full blessing of the Father.
God opens Heaven, to all earth, but, only through a second birth,
Spiritual birth open to everyone, but, all through God’s Only Son.
Saying to Nicodemus for all men, He said we’re to be born again,
Born through the Spirit of God, to enter Heaven from earthly sod.
The Son and God are the same, and only Jesus Christ can claim,
The seat at The Father’s side, for now He lives, although He died,
Raised to The Father’s right Hand; the Only Savior for every land,
God whom all men can know, through the love the Son did show.
God’s Blessing can’t be implored, till you know, His Son as Lord,
With saving knowledge of the Son, knowing He and God are one,
And from faith, when you believe, The Father’s Spirit you receive,
Bringing a oneness to your heart, with His blessing He will impart.
All of this and eternally more, when you come to Christ, the Door,
God’s Only Way of Salvation, His Eternally Gate for every nation,
God’s Blessings flow abundantly, when we open our eyes to see,
God’s Only Way, Truth and Life, is by His Only Son, Jesus Christ.
(Copyright ©12/2008)
Who Must Take Care of Old-aged Parents?
Which child will care for parents when old-aged?
Which child will show compassion and respect?
Which child will find the time to talk kind words?
Which child reciprocates their affection?
Gone are the days of joint family system!
Gone is the sense of values in people!
Gone are the times when blood was quite thicker!
Gone with the wind is honouring parents!
Have parents not showered love on children?
Have they not slogged to give them life's comforts?
Have they not nursed them whenev'r they fell ill?
Have they not done their duties to their kids?
The world today is selfish to the core;
Children just want the wealth of parents old;
None volunteer to tend to old parents;
Children show scarce love to their parents dear!
What has then come upon children today?
Who should take care of parents, elderly?
Should not one's children take care of parents?
Much love seems lost in families these days!
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A New Pilgrimage: Sonnet XL
Here therefore ends my sad soul's pilgrimage,
In tears for sin and half--redeemed desire.
She was unworthy her high martyr's rage,
Or to be wholly purified by fire.
O Rome, thy ways are narrow and aspire
Too straitly for the knees of this halt age,
And, with the multitude, her forces tire,
Even while she holds thee fast, her heritage.
Path of sublime perfection upon Earth!
Your's is it in the clamour of vain days
To guard the calm eternal of Man's birth
And like an eagle to renew his days.
Give me your blessing, angels, ere I go,
Angels that guard the bridge of Angelo.
poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
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Always, In All Ways
For always, in all ways
You'll be in my mind
For always, in all ways
The words have been
So hard to find
I still remember you as a child
Holding you in my arms
The way you looked up to me
I thought that I'd always be
I'd be there beside you
For always, in all ways
For always, in all ways
You'll stay in my heart
For always, in all ways
This distance is too far apart
I thought you'd always be Daddy's child
Then suddenly you were grown
And now that you're on your own
Whenever you feel alone
I'll be there beside you
For always, in all ways
I never thought that
This day would come
When we'd have to say
Goodbye
But now that you're on your own
Whenever you need a home
I'll be there inside you always, in all ways
I'll be there inside you always, in all ways
song performed by by Kenny Loggins
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A little home
It is home, sweet home that counts on and matters
In my sound sleep also sometimes I utter
I long for those atmosphere and beautiful walls
Some type of magnetic pull that always gives call
All sweet and bad memories are deeply attached
Not for a moment it takes us away and keep detached
Birth place, childhood and youth very happily spent
Protection under kind parents and happy moments
I will never forget the place which helped to build?
Kind love, affection and impregnable protective shield
So much influence form all over and everything to yield
Fresh air, lovely atmosphere and free games in open field
You long for your own home when gain maturity
It goes on in succession with continuity
You have your home with kids and beautiful wife
Days are passing off very smoothly in life
The end of universe is your dear home
You may not find beautiful city like Rome
But home is called home and has no parallel
When you reach at home you feel so well
You may get tired while working at sites
It may compel you to work and more wishes to ignite
You are lifeless when returned home at night
Your mind is not at rest and continues to fight
When you reach home and find everything alright
You may be able to think what is wrong or right
You may find all comforts at home when reach
You may feel at the top of the world and rich
You may have to work hard for your livelihood
You too may have to care for your neighborhood
Home is where you get all comforts and joy
You will have to make it heaven and completely enjoy
No where on earth you will feel at ease
Tension and worries altogether may cease
Morning sun may brighten your hope
Yu may be well prepared to walk on rope
All individual dream of happy home to take refuge
You can have easy access, free entry and no one can refuse
It is for us to make it worth while and suitable
No other place can make us happy or comfortable
I shall pray for suitable house with complete peace
Where I can hang on for all times to come at ease
It is place to seek solace and new energy release
Opening of new relation and not try it to freeze
Home has remained a holy place
Nobody every could replace
It is complete reality
Go for it and improve the quality
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Mary, Mary
Words and music by michael nesmith
Mary, mary, where you goin to?
Mary, mary, can I go too.
This one thing I will vow ya,
Id rather die than to live without ya.
Mary, mary, where you goin to?
Mary, mary, tell me truly
What did I do to make you leave me.
Whatever it was I didnt mean to,
You know I never would try and hurt ya.
Mary, mary, where you goin to?
What more, mary, can I do
To prove my love is truly yours?
Ive done more now than a clear-thinkin man would do.
Mary, mary, its not over.
Where you go, I will follow.
til I win your love again
And walk beside you,
But until then.
Mary, mary, where you goin to?
Mary, mary, where you goin to?
Mary, where you goin to?
Mary, mary, mary, mary, mary, where you goin to?
[repeat adlib]
song performed by by Monkees
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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