Richard Allen Beevor
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Richard Allen Beevor Poems
Today, The Last Day
I read somewhere once upon a time, that in the last days of this world, people will turn their face from God and treat him as a crime.
Life to Life
Leaves on the trees shine in the glory of golden street lamps, in the paving stones passing by are a million twinkling stars,
The Tigers Sorrow
A tiger quickened his rapid pace for he had come to fear, the hunter with its blazing rod that took a life so dear.
The Old Man and The Tree
And so the weary old man planted a seed, beside the wall of God, after many lost forgotten years, a tree sprang forth from the earth,
Alone at last, Oh! to be so completely alone, now I stand on my own, alone, alone, alone, alone,
A Christmas Rhyme
Conversations With A Friend
'Until the laughter ended I knew how to win and smile, now fear distorts words intended to remove my guile.' 'If in silence I dismay your hope that we are friends,
In the beginning was the void, the absolute infinity of space, an eternity of darkness, the endless bliss of unbroken silence,
Facing a clear blue sky, thinking of this light, a wall appeared before my eyes, dispelling all sight,
No Space Thing, Nothing Space
Nothing is real, no thing is real, nothing is real, no thing is reality. Yesterday is the past but once it was the present,
Supper For One
I looked sideways at the dog, he grinned sleepily, in that moment I felt us as brothers two souls entangled by time.
The child awakes, the day it breaks, as sunlight fills the room, the fire has burned, the night has turned, so silent in the tomb.
We Live To Become Heaven, We Arrive, We ...
Daylight of our perfect sight, coated in gloss unaware of blinded loss, moon shines the new earth to become a home for lost humanity.
I walked to the field, the green of dreams, saw the sky, as stars grace the night, hills explode in light when the sun rose aflame, rays of power abound with their might.
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
(31 October 1795 – 23 February 1821)
Today, The Last Day
I read somewhere once upon a time,
that in the last days of this world,
people will turn their face from God
and treat him as a crime.
They will succumb to Godless lusts
and diminish their spirit,
give their hopes to money, greed and power,
choosing fleeting fame, grind their souls to dust.
Following religion as if it is a fashion,
making face appearance at the church
filling up the coffers,
forgetting the Christ, his death and passion.
I read somewhere that sea shall take the shore,
everyone dip their toes in the waters of