from ambiguity is insight born.
minds, both clever and not,
all conceive many a thought.

in attempt to interpret,
ideas are set into motion,
building a creative notion.

through presence of equivocation,
wit is given liberty

I watch you write,  
your pen flowing like a river,  
each word a current
that pulls me under.  
I am ensnared in your story,  
captivated and lost
in the beautiful, broken
and hurting depths of you.

©️Lizzie Bevis

You read my poetry,
then turned away,  
as if the words
had nothing to say.  
Each line was a pulse,
it was a part of me,  
yet you drift on past,
too blind to see  
that my verses ache,
hoping to be heard,  
yet silence lingers,
louder than each word.  
The ink may fade,
but my feelings remain,  
as I laid my heart bare,
was it all in vain?

©️Lizzie Bevis

In a quiet room
where muses play,  
words weave together,
throughout the day.  
With ink as a river,
thoughts flow and engage,  
each stanza a spark
igniting the page.  
Rhythms and rhymes
dance freely in the mind,  
as a canvas of feelings
creatively applied.  

©️Lizzie Bevis

With every step,  
hold me close,  
as desire lights
our intense fire.
My beating heart  
will seek and find,  
your leading soul,  
body and mind.  

©️Lizzie Bevis

Why do I dare to sing
this melody, overused and
claimed by millions of
others, with voices nearly
interchangeable but barely off,
imperceptibly so, just a dash
too much of cinnamon, not that
you’d ever know, but still
I steal these hand-me-down
words, chasing the horizon only
to retreat back to the
well-worn reef?