Poetry: The Book Stuck In My Imagination

Old Mary lived in an old school.
She vended clothes made from Virgin wool.
At dawn, she’d flee far into the wood
To fetch food for her baby bull.
Once upon a night,
Baby bull felt parched.
And it was unfortunate that the well was dry.
Old Mary dared not to go to the forest,
For the wizards at dawn only rest.
So she squeezed her eyes
Till water dropped into the bucket.
The old bull drank.
Her tears saved him not to die


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