Mary, Mary, quite contrary
How does your garden grow?
With silver bells and cockleshells
And pretty maids all in a row
-- By Mother Goose
Did you ever wonder what the purpose of those “pretty maids all in a row” might be?
Mary? Mary, How Does Your Garden Grow?
by D. Denise Dianaty
Cobblestone paths ‘tween bowered vines…
Scents of jasmine and hyacinths…
Fragrant blooms of rose that climbs,
Creating those fairytale depths.
Birdsong lilting… just to entrance
‘Pon wing-ed flights of fancy trill.
Colorful feathered fairy dance
Drawing us to share the idyll.
Mary, Mary, timid belle,
Delicately tends this garden
Of silver bells and cockle shell…
‘Pon shadowed paths inviting us down…
Beckoning now, she calls to you
To share her shadowed fears with her
That she might not walk alone through.
Join her there, against fear aver.
Many a pretty maid walks there
To bear her company awhile.
They step into her garden fair
And revel through each aisle.
Those pretty maids, all in a row,
Tramp into the garden smiling.
They dance and frolic, safe they trow,
In th’error of their beguiling.
In that garden smiling went well
Pretty maids someone should miss.
But none came out again to tell
The fate of idyllic promise.
Now… Mary, Mary, who can say
The reason for your timid tread,
On those oh so enticing pathways
Through this sylvan fairy flow'rbed?
Mary, Mary, why so wary
Walking your sunlit garden path
Where such flowers lovely tarry
And birds singing sweetly thou hath?
What darkness bides there in that glen?
If innocence is doomed… who’ll know?
Tell me Mary, Mary, what ken…
Tell us… How does your garden grow?
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My deepest thanks to David Lewis Paget,
Tate Morgan, and Rick Peutter for lending
their guidance and tutelage to this composition.
by D. Denise Dianaty
© 2015 20 October 2014
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