Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Relocated when
I
Was
Eight,
Gran picked me up
Outside
The school gate

This would be the last time,
For a
Long time,
To be present here,
My old school

Somewhere in my mind
It got locked away,
The places
Where we
Used to
Play

Now the years have passed,
Returning to
My old school
At
Last

It looks exactly the same,
Except someone's shrunk it!
My eyes, they shut,
Am I in
Lilliput?

Song- Where Do the Children Play? Cat Stevens.
“If thou wouldst  
be my critic
Thou must
— wear my soul”

(Woodland Avenue Philadelphia: May, 1973)
If I wrote a book,
you will be my central character.
Million copies later,
I may write through your impeccable knowledge.

If I wrote a poem,
you will be in every word.
A couple of views later,
I may speak through your poetic silence.

If I acted in a play,
you will be my audience.
A few applauses later,
I may act out a monologue of glorious affection.

Say hi,
Say hello,
Say no more,
When words stop,
I will understand,
That we are where we need to be.

If I met you in real life,
you will be my soul mate.
A few decades later,
I may seek a second life with you.

So, meet me now! :)
Anxiety wraps
itself around me,

like a coat that
doesn’t fit me

like a lover that
doesn’t love me

like a fire that
doesn’t warm me
I rewrote this poem because it felt unfinished.
It started with Hello,
and a fleeting connection
as smiles were exchanged,
along with quiet affection.

It is always the little things
a laugh, a touch, a glance,  
as a shared thrill ignites  
this sweet, subtle dance.

There is no grand confession,  
just a gentle sigh,  
a swoon of devotion
as our hearts comply.

©️Lizzie Bevis
In the quiet of a cluttered room,
a glimmer flickered, an idea in bloom.
I held it close, a thought so bright,
now lost in clouds,
drifting out of sight.

A glance, a turn, a fleeting chase,
I search the corners, I scan the space.
It danced on the tip of my eager mind,
now a whisper, elusive,
and unconfined.

Was it a word, a thing, a dream
or a thread of a half-formed theme?
Time ticks on, relentless and still,
as I shuffle through remnants,
against my will.

Where did it go, this moment, this spark?
Did it slip through the cracks
and into the dark?

I pause, I breathe, I let out a sigh,
in the chaos of life, as my thoughts fly
out the window or through the door,
leaving me stumped
and pondering once more.

©️Lizzie Bevis
He is so many words
that cannot be spoken
or even be truly written
as a beautiful rhyme.
My bursting heart chords
they sing,
to love they have awoken.

He is always on my mind
to him I am devoted,
I recall beautiful memories,
I embrace my comforting thoughts
because I know he is mine.
I smile,
as words of love become woven.

He radiates a love so strong
that our bond cannot be broken,
my happy heart leaps
leading my undying rhythm;
My never-ending song
I dance,
to poetry in motion.

©️Lizzie Bevis
In this world, I find myself alone,
surrounded by a chaos of troubles,
including my own
and you expect me to stand strong
as everything crumbles,
because you want me to help you atone?

I am a dancing light through the darkness
for many, it seems, through their stress.
My heart grows weary,
yet I remain humble,
as you plead for me to protect.

Through all of your worries and woes,
I stand with you, and I oppose;
But when all is resolved,
I'm left to struggle
as life deals me blow after blow.

Why is life so ominously wicked
to those who are giving and committed? Through it all,
my priorities are juggled
and from my time you greatly benefit.

But these questions keep manifesting
in my mind:
Why do I care so much,
and why am I so kind?
Why must I carry everyone's burdens
when they do not feel inclined?

©️Lizzie Bevis
Next page