Sweet Mary Poem by Timothy Goodmansen

Mary.. Mary, where do you go
when the world begins to slow
And the light outside gets low
and I see you there - mary
staring out the window

The seasons may change
but your face remains the same
(I change too - mary)

Do you go back to your childhood home
The farm your birthplace - back
to your mother's warm embrace
To the smell of your father's hands
Like homemade wheat and yeast
a brewery in mid October

And did it trouble your adolescent mind
to find
that a father's hands
weren't always so kind

You ran, didn't you, mary
but your running was aimless
So that now at forty
you find yourself back at the front door
Of that childhood home

Back to that old door-knocker
that barely hung on with one loose nail
and still does... Turn around, mary!

Come back to me... come back to bed

Two leaves blowing in the wind, hath no meaning! - mary

Come back to me... come back to bed

And I will erase
all those
devilish things he did.