* A Tibute To Mary Jones Poem by Paul Holmes

She opened a special Welsh Book
Given as a present from a Friend,
She daily set aside time to look
Upon those words which her heart did mend.
For now she had the Holy Bible in her hand,
A priceless Treasure, at last acquired;
She walked barefoot across the hilly Land,
At sixteen, a feat to be admired!
Twenty-five-miles wasn’t much for her to bear;
Of this Book, she just had to get a hold –
Her desire and drive was something most rare
For a young girl to trek in the cold.


It must have felt like a soothing balm
To read those words at leisure –
Imagine her face of serenity and calm,
Imagine her exquisite pleasure
At reading about the life of our Lord
And the love he undoubtedly showed –
Mary loved this Book she could not afford,
Her heart’s appreciation overflowed.
No doubt she spoke to neighbours
From a heart courageous and bold,
Excitedly relating all of God’s favours
To be gleaned from those leaves of gold.