Madam, in eden, i’m adaM.
Eve did the deed
and deified god,
He has his eye on you,
Dennis and Edna sinneD
too.

Won’t lovers revolt noW?
We do not say a peep as
We panic in a peW
Because
He lived as a devil, eH?
Wow!

Sir, i demand, i am a maid named iriS.
Ma is a nun, as i aM,
Never a foot too far, eveN.
Red roses run no risk, sir, on nurse’s ordeR
But, red apples and serpents do.
Tut, tut, tut.

©️Lizzie Bevis

Beneath the Eiffel's iron lace,
A tabby cat prowls with feline grace,
Past Arc de Triomphe, she sets her pace,
On moonlit nights down the Champs Élysées.

Prowling around cafés and bustling streets, She slips into wine-soaked conversations, Witnessing love's soft declarations,
While dodging bikes and hurried feet.

Her whiskers twitch at fresh baguettes,
As dawn breaks on the Seine's calm flow, Lounging, watching artists come and go,
From her sun-kissed, with a view parapet.

Notre Dame's gargoyles watch her pass,
Through shadows of restored spires,
In all its reverent wonder, to be admired
As pigeons scatter on morning mass.

Up to Montmartre's charm and winding ways,
She naps peacefully on warm window sills,
As church bells toll from sacred hills,
Lost in the wonders of her Parisian days.

©️Lizzie Bevis

Add a lot of dedication,
mix it with pure determination.
Pour in patience by the pound
and let persistence stir around.

Fold well with hard work's might,
work sufficiently and rest well at night.
Simmer with an open mind,
and leave all doubts and fears behind.

Let it cook with passion's flame,
until you've earned a respected name.
Season well with positivity,
and garnish with creativity.

Serve with grace and gratitude,
Topped with a winning attitude.
This recipe, when followed well,
Yields success, as time will tell.

Bon appétit!

©️Lizzie Bevis

Sometimes,
When I am with my demons or angels,
and drowning alone in silence,
I find solace in my inauspicious life.

Sometimes,
Solitude is the only place
where I can remain contemplative,
as thoughts freely flow within my mind.

Sometimes,
There is beauty in quiet introspection,
my unvoiced passions are never denied,
but must I remain unloved, as time slowly slips by?

Is my mind merely irresolute?
Torn into pieces by ambivalent thought,
at war with itself, until reason intervenes...

and then I begin to write.

©️Lizzie Bevis