Celestial Grace
Comets suspending their race
To catch but a glimpse of your face,
Outshined by ethereal grace,
Eclipsing all bodies in space.
Thus too, Angels gather in place
As they match your leisurely pace,
And most tenderly bless every trace
Full of sprinkles of saffron and mace.
I’d give up a hand full of Ace
To once again feel your embrace,
For no one could ever replace
The one I am tied to, by lace.