Sunday, January 20, 2013

Her Conversation With Grace

She is so far above me
My thoughts do not even dare
To turn and view her
With anything but highest reverence
Oh Magnificent, I know it is an afront
To call you goddess
Because even that title is made base
When brought before your grace
Your Grace
The only title I shall whisper in the night
Never have I known man or woman
Who could make me feel so base
My secrets are clumsy and dull
And yet still you hear them
And for whatever reason known only to you
You still smile upon them
And can I tell you a secret, O sweet Lady
You are the only one left
The others have all gone
No one else even cares anymore
And that's okay
I'm fine with that
Surprisingly fine actually
Where once a vast see of droll faces
Now remains one true and constant friend
And I had thought I would prefer the crowd
But I guess maybe I don't know myself
Nearly as well as I thought I do
So maybe shifts in my perspective
Won't make her any lower
She is still Her Grace
But maybe that brings things in alignment
Sets us both on the same plane
So we now can stand face to face
And so I may steal a little of her Grace

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