In the quiet woods where shadows play,
Mary’s words awaken the dawn,
Nature’s gentle whispers, softly they sway,
In every leaf and every fawn.

The river sings its endless song,
With echoes of her gentle prose,
Among the trees where spirits belong,
In the solitude the wild rose knows.

Her verses dance with the morning light,
In the embrace of the sun’s warm glow,
Capturing the soul of nature’s sight,
In every breeze that dares to blow.

Through fields of green and skies so wide,
Mary finds the beauty in the small,
In nature’s arms we all abide,
Listening to her poetic call.