Mary Was Dreaming
Mary was dreaming of her love,
Fitfully working at her loom,
Blinked as the sun which glared so bright
Flooded her dark and tiny room.
When she looked up, an angel stood
Towering above her frightened head,
"Mary, all Hail, the blessed one,
I come from God," the angel said.
"You have been chosen of your race,
Infused with grace to bear a son,
He comes to save the poor and weak
He is the Lord, the holy one."
"God's will is mine," the young girl said,
"I am his handmaid, mine his womb."
"Farewell," the angel, parting, said,
Leaving her in the darkened room.