When you’re alone,
Or with others,
Enjoy the poems
Between these covers.

Poems of love and hope,
Praise and pride,
The times we laughed,
The times we cried.

Through the years,
From birth till now,
We grew in number,
And thrived somehow.

Your natural talents
And acquired skills,
Fill my pages
With timely thrills.

You weren’t entitled,
You didn’t squander,
You earned the prizes
For your endeavours.

Read now how it came together.

All the little ponies
Are standing on the hill
Gaze out across the valley
Wild mustang regal and wear
Asks smallest pony to himself
Why magestic am I nere?
No wings to glide along the clouds
Refused legs lean and long?
Nor was I gifted and bestowed
sprouted horn upon my crown

Then jumps nearby a frog to he
and startles neigh a-fright
Upon which he did rear and stomp
Squashing frog among the leaves
And pony never asked again
For perspective gained release.

Wisdom spills like morning light
From youthful lips untouched by spite,
Pure and simple, crystal clear,
With virtue adults long to hear.

Why is the sky grey and blue?
Why is there a shadow over the moon?
Questions that we've long forgotten,
Wrapped in wonder, freshly gotten.

They see the world with untrained eyes,
No filters yet to cloud their skies,
No prejudice to dim their sight,
Just raw perception and pure delight.

In their logic, direct and true,
Lives the insight we once knew,
Before the world grew complicated,
Before our minds were educated.

So when curious children do speak,
Their random thoughts, pure and unique,
For in their words, both odd and sage,
Lies innocence that vanishes as we age.

©️Lizzie Bevis

Children understand loveliness.
They recognise the aroma,
the touch of love,
the echo of hearts
that rise to adore.

Children understand loveliness.
They recognise the savour,
the weight of feast,
the press of voices
that sing with laughter.

Children understand loveliness.
They recognise Christmas
within the heat,
the fire and glory
of Christ's forgiveness.

Children understand Christmas.
Look to them.

sirens bawl
clear skies mean no school
(prospect of drone-strike)

"Are we there yet Mommy?" asked the little child

"Not yet my love. But soon enough you'll see"

"Daddy, are we there yet?" the child asked again

"No. But when we are you'll know it. Trust me"

"It'll be a while yet before we are there
But I'll tell you a secret of which I am aware.
If you pay close attention, sometimes you'll spot
A little bit of home that someone had forgot."

"It happens when two hearts come together
And true love finds a lasting home
Where peace and joy are birds of a feather
Built upon faith's cornerstone."

"It's where life flourishes and children grow
It's where laughter and love so freely flow.
But this is just a taste of what is yet do come:
It is far beyond your wildest dreams and then some."

"One day we will go before you
And leave you for a little while
But later you will join us again
And we'll welcome you with a smile."

"So, you see, for now, home is where we are.
As long as we're a family, Heaven isn't far."

Swaying curtain in the window,
airguns after dinner,
broken doll on the highway,

a promise is a promise.

The small winters
in the corner of her eyes,
Mom and Dad, they hold serve
in the garden, at the office,
no one is watching as she reels,

hurt whispers on.

Walking past stones and trees,
the bones of things,
coming at it all wrong,
this time she makes a promise,

under a name that hides her.