Clasps set closed by chain and key
and yet her eyes were set deep on me
The syncopation of her gears
was like an arrhythmic heart full of fears

Pressed to chest her corset lines
were left to dangle in my mind
her buckled up boots turned so fast
I barely had time for her name; to ask

No metal kettle held so much steam
pouring out from every seam
No man alive could his eyes avert
from the pleated ruffles on her copper skirt

Her clockwork pistol she held in her hand
while smiling at the fool without a plan
and as I examined each bit of ruffle and lace
she simply laughed and replied, 'Grace.'

No simpleton inventor could hope to compete
to win such approval as she'd given me
Little did I know she'd take me for a ride
yet my pent up life needed to unwind