Richard T. Beck

One of our Readers from the Saturday Night ALL KINDS OF CRAZY LOVE - POEMS ON LOVE shared these poem of his.  Thank you for your gift, Richard.


To my wife as I grow older


Because I favor you amongst all others

I can pick you out amongst the crowd.

Sense the direction to turn to find you

know which room to search that hides you.

When asleep I am awakened by your absence.

My need to have you closest to me

even when the noblest glow of rapture rings

in celebration of all my doings and things;

I am nothing by measure without you.

It's a cultivated presence over the years

that has made me so tentative and residual.

When we are not together I feel ashamed.

Feel unwholesome and strange

as if an unattached appendage claims

it should be through severed nerve reclaimed.

That my every conscious moment is missing

its definition and affirmation;

if you are not witness to its confirmation.

Time is fleeting when I am with you.

No pursuit is worthy to forego you.

How strange it is to upstage the man

as the pendulum swing slows in demands;

that my love for you would gain momentum

even until the very last diminution of sand

falls from the speeding hour glass.


*******************************************


Turn as the Seasons are Changing


Standing still on a snowy hill

crying tears on an empty ocean.

They fall like stones but never reach bottom

for they are weightless and their need is to travel.

Traveling in circles, seeking a shelter,


they drift on the waves and the currents.

But they'll never see sunset only horizon,

for their visions can never arrest them.


Standing still on a snowy hill

reaching for the eye of heaven.

My touch is stung by a thorn of time

bleeding for the dying of the season.

Earth gape and swallow my heart

to wait for" the day of harvest.

To wait and to wonder on the step of my lover,

the step that can never be taken.

Standing still on a snowy hill

whispering my words to the winds.

I leave my mark to flee and turn,

turn as the seasons are changing.

I curse lost days and time-full night

measured sleepless by a tapestry unfinished.

For my love has no borders, no threads to be woven,

woven to blanket the oceans.

Standing still on a snowy hill

watching the flickering sun hide.

The clouds it draws are the smoke of dreams

that vanish to dew in the dawning.

The weather impatiently stirs the darkness

like a dreamer caught between waking.

Waking too early, for the morning is raining,

raining on an empty tomorrow.

3/19/79


*************************************************


when i have fifteen minutes


when i have fifteen minutes

there are a few things I like to do

finish my cup of coffee

lie down next to you

ripple your skin at the hairline

but not go too deep

just deep enough to arouse you

from your morning sleep

if I have fifteen minutes

before I go to work

I like to lift your nightshirt

and put your breasts to work

you cuddle in the blanket

pull cover to your neck

go go go you say half sleeping

one kiss upon your lips

in my last fifteen minutes

before I depart the world

this is what I plan to do

to show my love for you



Richard Beck was born in Coatesville, PA. He has a BA '77 from Villanova; an MA from West Chester '80. He did postgraduate work at Temple University in Horticulture and Landscape Design, Urban Education, and Education Psychology. In 1979, he received his Pennsylvania teacher certification at Immaculata. Beck retired from teaching in 2012. Since 2012, he has self-published three books of poetry and a book of short stories.  Beck resided in the Coatesville area for 65 years before moving to Marietta, PA in 2021 where he now resides with his wife Maria.


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