In the quiet woods where whispers dwell,
Mary’s words like petals fell,
Each line a tender, loving spell,
In nature’s heart, her stories tell.

The gentle touch of her soft prose,
In every verse, a love that grows,
Through fields and streams, the river flows,
Her spirit in each flower shows.

Love so pure in every phrase,
A guiding light in forest’s maze,
Her poetry, a warm embrace,
In solitude, her voice we praise.

With every word, a soul laid bare,
Mary’s love beyond compare,
Her legacy, a love affair,
In nature’s arms, forever there.