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Our Mary

'Twas in the year of '89,
A century ago,
A little baby girl was born
In Springburn, near Glasgow.

Now this wee girl, with kith and kin,
To Ulster's shores did come,
Years later she was married,
And soon became a mum.

With boys and girls, this 'girl' was blest,
She did have quite a few,
She had so many children,
She didn't know what to do.

Now this 'wee girl''s a mother,
A grandma, even great,
And all her kin are loved by her,
In her world, there's no hate.

Today it is her birthday,
She's one hundred years and three,
And so this ode is sent to say
"Happy Birthday" Our Mary.

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