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The soft wind brings resurrection,
as seeds crack the Earth's waking shell,
and she shrugs off her pale complexion,
while spring's mystery is dispelled.

Cherry blossoms break their silence,
pink confetti pirouettes on the breeze.
After months of cold defiance,
new leaves grace once barren trees.

In murky ponds, frogspawn transforms,
and tadpoles emerge to the spring light.
The weather warms from winter storms,
as days bask in the sun's delight.

This is nature's revolution,
Death in reverse, life is reborn.
In April's retribution,
Faith is restored, and hope adorns all.

©️Lizzie Bevis
Once, I loved with abandon,
like a river flowing wild and free,
with no walls,
no doubts,
no questions,
just with pure possibility.

Now love stalks like a savage beast,
and I am weary of it's teeth.
Trust bleeds through
my painful raw wounds
where hope and fear
fester beneath.

Each time I dare to offer
my beaten and weathered heart,
the past denies,
leaving me empty,
and I often wonder
if I will be enough.

Was the river never wanted
by those who searching for mere rain?
My heart,
once soft,
now toughened,
guarding carefully against such pain.

©️Lizzie Bevis
A lonely heart,
in a lonely world,
is always in search of
an oasis of love.
If we choose to be
we can be:

the voice of the voiceless,
the strength of the weakest,
a glimmer of hope for the hopeless,
a ray of light in darkness.
I live around blurry faces,
Face of people I used to know.
Leaving a place and coming back feels like you know someone from before yet not who they are now.
I have known you as far as my memory goes.
I have observed you, watched you grow—
As I did too.

But I wonder why we never talked,
’Cause we never talked before,
Was all I could think back then.

And even now,
I think it’s still the same—
’Cause we never talked before,
And maybe… we never will.
I've been an introvert for as long as I can remember. This poem reflects on what could have been—how many connections I might have made if I’d just smiled and started a conversation. But that moment never arrived.
My heart is a stained glass window, fragile as a Rose in May
refracting light from every angle, it holds life's leeway
Suffused with fragments of love,  I can be warm as night    
filled with a sense of awe, when you tilt me to the light,  
                                 I feel just right  
My heart is a stained glass window, fragile as a Rose in May !
Fragmented beauty encased in bursting beams of afterglow
if I follow only yesterdays, life can soon appear surreal  
Infused with an outside world that can often smite  
I choose to live inside my own reflective colors,  
                                           Always, in the light   !
Fragmented beauty encased in bursting beams of afterglow
My heart is a monument to all that I have lived and known
changing and bending with every curving path
it has been overused and "Inter-diffused" many times  
like this mosaic piece of art I call "stained glass window "  
                                I am a,   "Pièce de ré·sis·tance " ( a work of art)
My heart is a monument to all that I have lived and known
My heart is a stained glass window, fragile as a Rose in May
When I pray with it, it remembers to give thanks, in every way.
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