Her Grace (Vienna Suite)

Featured art by Mario Sánchez Nevado

Listen to Her Grace by Richard Charles Stevens

Listen to Vienna by Ultravox

With not a word spoken
Her heart came wide open
Fractures aside
Was a far cry from broken
Hope her first prize
And all else mere token
Such was the turn of mind chosen
Such was the turn of mind chosen
Such was the turn of mind chosen
Chosen
Chosen
.
There was a time
When her smile was endangered
Life appeared little but fickle acquaintance
Liberally given
Straightforwardly taken
A waltz and a dream
From which she’d reawaken
Alone and disowned
Of the joy long forsaken
Lonely road forth
With remorse as her raiment
Yet her eyes
Were some way from vacant
.
For all she had faced
She retained the same grace
Such was innate
To a native of faith
When the day came
To remain
Through the storm
Hers were the eyes
Of reliable source
Silently paused
Whereby violently torn
She defied each subsidence forewarned
Scaled the same walls
Which had formerly stifled
Found that within
Long since formally titled
Life to this point
Had seemed awkward recital
Thus she endorsed its revival
Revival
Revival
Revival
Revival
.
With not a contrivance
Her heart came wide open
No gimmick to mimic
Each limit unbroken
Hope was her lyric
And all else unspoken
Such was the gift she had chosen
.
With not a word spoken
Her heart came wide open
Fractures aside
Was a far cry from broken
Hope her first prize
And all else mere token
Such was the turn of mind chosen
Such was the turn of mind chosen
Such was the turn of mind chosen
Chosen
Chosen
Chosen
Chosen
.
There was a time
When her smile was endangered
Life appeared little but fickle acquaintance
Liberally given
Straightforwardly taken
A waltz and a dream
A waltz and a dream
A waltz and a dream
A waltz and a dream
.
A living exhibit
Of all things exquisite
Many of course
Would have deemed her complicit
Labelled her false
When discourse was explicit
Wished her divorced
From the source of her spirit
Taking by force
Every morsel prolific
Left her exhausted
Too worn to admit it
Fooled into thinking
The storm hit to sink her
Taught then contrary
With nary a whimper
.
A living exhibit
Of all things exquisite
Many of course
Would have deemed her complicit
Labelled her false
When discourse was explicit
Wished her divorced
From the source of her spirit
Taking by force
Every morsel prolific
Left her exhausted
Too worn to admit it
Fooled into thinking
The storm hit to sink her
Taught then contrary
With nary a whimper
.
With not a word spoken
This vocal free thinker
Was potently thunder
In cloak of a whisper
Quietly brave
She retained the same grace
Innate faith
A far cry from broken
Hope was her first prize
And thus she remained
When the day came to wake to life chosen
With not a word spoken
Her heart came wide open
And she became
Nature in motion
She became
Nature in motion
She became
Nature in motion
.
Motion
Motion
.
With not a word spoken
Her heart came wide open
Fractures aside
Was a far cry from broken
Hope her first prize
And all else mere token
Such was the turn of mind chosen
.

Richard Charles Stevens

Keeper of The Crimson Quill

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