With spirit ablaze,
To tread, where everyone conspire
My truth, a flame held higher,
Yet branded still a liar.
This path, where doubts transpire,
To reach what hearts desire.
As in ages of old time's fire,
Worth on the pyre, a maiden's trial dire.
The heart's own fire, just water to the pyre,
Yet the world deems us of less significance,
Not much of a crier if you keep your distance,
We've never needed rescue, if the problem wasn't you.

It's raining cats and dogs today,
my tongue the cat has stolen away,
and I watch in silence as pigs fly,
then tumble earthward from the sky.
A cheeky monkey, full of guile,
pulls wool over my eyes, for a while
and as the wolf cries false alarms,
a wild goose chase begins across the farm.

In a China shop, a bull runs free,
shattering porcelain endlessly.
An elephant now stands in plain sight,
as I hold my horses and watch this plight.
The top dog lounges, cool and wise,
as others bark their foolish cries,
up wrong trees, early birds take flight,
to catch the worm before first light.

The lion claims his hearty share,
while flapping fish gasp in open air,
now, take the bull by the horns,
it must be tamed
by a red herring so aptly named!
The cat slips free, the bag is untied,
there are no secrets left to hide,
the bird now sings, a call to all,
"Oh, to be a fly upon a wall!"

©️ Lizzie Bevis