V Poem - Mary

Mary
( For Mary )

This Mary pens poems about everyone else
But now its our turn
To churn out a verse for her very own self

She has reached the middle of he life
Unscathed by a lot of trouble and strife
She's adorned by all of the lover and the joy
Of a life that is humorous and wild, yet coy

From Tully, Baylin, she went away
A long time ago, I think it was in May
From a little cottage that was so warm and cosy
That little girl, her cheeks so rosy

In Manchester town that flower bloomed
And now she's a lady sophisticated and groomed
She had good time and bad and then had Louise
Who grew very lovely, every lads tease

The bishop of Salford, he said to her
Get out of my sight, you give me a fright
And Mary fled back to Tully, Baylin
There with her Wilf, she began again

She went to work for a Mister Dulmaine
She found it a joy and found it a pain
She frizzed up her hair in search of approval
And when she made up, he made her remove it

And yet she cried when he went away
Oh what will I do ! and she took to the booze
No tending of sheep or making of hay
Oh this lady - she does so amuse

She developed a passion for German beer
Of hangovers she had no fear
And every Friday, dodged auld Wilf's spies
In favour of lovely Chinese eyes

She has a friend called Mossie Muldoon
A ladies man and a bit of a croon
You can see them often in Granny's Kitchen
About their neighbours - bitchen and bitchen
Now and again Wilf takes her away
To the West where they fish in Clew Bay
These are great times, but how does she fend
Often, it's said with a bare tail end

Do you remember the night when Wilf saw the whale
First he turned red and then he turned pale
For it wasn't a mammal that was in his bed
But the very woman he had chosen to wed

This is Mary's battle with he waist
Which is often frustrated by her taste
Monday's her day for the rabbit food
While we contend with the hangover food

Dare any poor salesman call on that day
For he will leave Lund in utter dismay
From "how are they hangin' to 'did you get it last night'
Nearly every supplier has taken flight in fright

And what of her boss who is ever so nice
And who for a pint she likes to entice
But one leads to two and two leads to three
They guzzle all night, you'd swear it was free

Ask poor Wilf there, he's his wits end
With the likes of this he just can't contend
But where he found her, God only knows
For she is all of his joy and some of his woes

For he friends in need she is always there
By each of their sides with love and care
So for this lovely lady from Tully Baylin
Raise up your black stuff and your gin
And join in, in saying happy mid life
To a wonderful fiend - a mother and wife

MWC
1992