this crazy thing called GRACE

Crazy I'm a certain manner.
Grace on a certain day.
Bashful her crazy smile. Revealing her cheerful charms.
A lady she be.
From the women she has been.
She is what she imagines, not we.
Disguised as dignity and honour.
She can be what she sets out to be.
Yet she choose non to be but her.
A lady not in fear.
That touches you with the gentleness you feel inside.
Ohh my, this crazy special thing called grace.

You see grace is not crazy.
Nor is a person.
Continuously she'll knock on you heart.
And say "hi my name is grace."
Reject or accept she is not an emotion.
But the gentleness that excavate the best emotions to sight.
Next time she comes again she'll say "hi".
But now "please do not fight the eager to confess, express or live painless.
Grace vows to feel and heal what your heart is about.
If love is to be a rose, Grace is the sweet pollen.
A sigh for this special thing called Grace.

Short be elaborate.
Grace is all at heart.
She respects my art.
I respect our faith.
As I do our long life with short presence.
Still bashful our blush be.

If you weren't in the mood I expect you not be moved.

Her name is Grace and she is in you to.