Billye Phillips Beck

Glen Rose, TX, USA

Billye graduated from high school in Granbury, TX. Afterwards, she received The Peabody Award which resulted in offers of scholarships to University of Texas and Tarleton State. She started writing poetry to fill lonely times after her three children were grown. Most of it is written about someone or something that has touched her life in some way. Her work has been published in several books and newspapers, and one book of her own titled "From the Heart—Special Poems for Special People." Presently, Billye is office manager for her husbands construction company, and writes poetry in her spare time.

Working Man's Prayer

Dear Lord, excuse my cowboy boots, my Wranglers and my cap.
I'm praying on my way to work, for I'm a working chap
I didn't go to college, I'm just a common man.
You ,too, were a carpenter, Lord, so I know you understand.
My hands are calloused, my voice is loud, my clothes are not first rate.
Will you be checking labels, Lord, when I enter Heaven's gate?
My truck is old and people laugh, from their shiny cars and vans.
Did they often laugh at you, Dear Lord, as you walked throughout the land?
Please help me not to worry, Lord, o'er my lack of worldly gain.
I'll be as rich as all the rest when I reach Heaven's plain.
I'll trade my jeans and cowboy boots for wings and a robe of white.
I'll leave my cap and put on a crown, Oh, what a welcome sight!
Work time is almost here, but I've surely time to pray,
Just help me, Lord, to be content with what I have today.

Amen

Because of the Name

Face of an angel, with beauty rare,
masking the pain that was hidden there.
Too many times she was abused,
bearing the burden, alone and confused.
No one willing to help or share, and
no one left that really cared.
The sad blue eyes, the childish face,
bear the scars of shame and disgrace.
Forced to feel that she's to blame,
For the story untold because of the name.
A man of the town, his beautiful wife—
no one believed he would take her life.
She begged for help but no one dared
to get involved or show they cared.
We share the guilt and we're all to blame,
when we don't believe because of the name.

Full Circle

Well, I'm going out, Lord, the same way I came in,
No hair, no teeth, can't talk, and wrinkles in my skin.
I lie here on this cold hard bed and try to fight the fear,
Biting on my trembling lips, holding back the tears.
Yes, I'm going out Lord, the same way I came in,
With my mind a blank and teary eyes, surrounded by my kin.
It's really been great, Lord, and I wanta say "Thanks Again."
I've made full circle and ended up back where I began.
Just hold my hand and take me out the way you brought me in.
Lord, take me from my earthly home and help me start again.