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Mary Worth, Mary Worth, Mary Worth... they've called to you.

Through the looking glass as the shadows grew.
With the candles lit, young people they stare.
In a fit they call to you, but you're never there.

Or are you... Mary Worth, sitting behind the glass, brushing your locks as the church calls to mass. They call to you... three times it's said, yet you never appear, at least not before bed.

You sit and you stare, with your hateful eyes, if only they saw you and how you despise; each of the children, the girls and the boys, who call out your name, in a dark room, with their toys...  You're ready for them, You could get them tonight but instead you just wait until the moment is right.

But I know the secret and I have the charm, You can't get to me Mary, You waited to long!

A hair from the devil, who's a long tailed fellow.
A ribbon on a bone from a wicked old crone.
Add a pinch of dust from a vampires bust.

I have it all in my little silver box and it's shut up tight with three shiny locks.

Now I am protected. I know the way, but watch out children or you'll be spirited away! Make sure you take heed of the galloping steed for it's death herself coming for you with a spider's stealth.

She'll wrap you up in a blanket so cold.

You'll never wake up...

You'll never grow old.
A little poem to go along with this children's Mary Worth ceremony
I see a flash of lightning,
Sounds of clouds humming.
I hear a boom of thunder,
Another storm is coming.

The rain hits the windows,
The puddles begin to form.
Clouds are getting darker,
But it's just another storm.

The sky is painted black,
The clouds move and swarm.
Raindrops smash the ground,
But it's just another storm.

The booms of thunder fade,
The black clouds turn grey.
It's all coming to an end,
The storm is fading away.

Storms will come and go,
Some big and some small.
You're brave, you're strong,
You can face them all.
My poem was lovingly made into a 'Me to You Bear' video:
Her hair, beautiful.
Eyes sparkling, lips smiling.
I love this woman.
Happy labor day
family, friends and picnics.
childhood memories
waffles, waffles a real great treat.
I cook them for breakfast as their fun to eat.
Buttery and light, my taste buds take flight.
In fact, I just might eat them tonight!
Today I got a new waffle iron. I haven't made waffles in almost a year. My excitement burst forth in prose tonight as I was preparing some of the fluffiest, most delicious waffles ever.

— The End —