About Me

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Sometimes, I just need to go for a bicycle ride, on my Schwinn Cruiser, around the Loop Road, Rainclouds or Sunshine. And sometimes, when Lifes circumstances prevents me, I do it anyway, with Windy thoughts peddling circles in my mind. I am D.M. Beebe . . . Born July 07, 1967 in Seattle, Wa. Sprouted one hour away, due North East, in the fertile Tualco Valley. I didnt really ever go too far away from the Valley, as I didn’t need to. As Life in Tualco Valley, seems to have always intrigued me. As I pay attention to the Valley, I do notice the slight changes every day. Throughout the 4 Seasons, within the Valleys full Spectrum, Rainbow array. When I watch, and when I pay attention, I develop many reasons. To have many thoughts about Life, throughout my Lifes Seasons. So I think about Life, and about Nature, and Plants and Animals, and Humans. And how it unfolds, within my mind, and my thoughts, and my insights. And so I write Story Poems of my Lifes experiences, and of my observations. And so I go forth, to reveal my conclusions, of my slightly insane perceptions. Thank You for reading my Poems . . . D.M. Beebe

Thursday, September 18, 2014

Soil -

Toil if you will, but wouldnt you rather,
Walk barefoot on the beach in the rain, a pitter a pather.
Go for a hike in the woods, maybe even climb a tree,
Tube down the sky river, explore a river island safari.


Toil if you will, but dont take too long,
When you can stop and think, and write a poem or a song.
Thoughts of life and love, and family and friends that you hold dear,
That keep you centered, and peel back lifes busy veneer.


Toil if you will, but the seasons wont slow,
The mind gets smarter, but the body starts to show.
The weathering of life, like autumns spent falling leaves,
Your old now and tell stories, that know one has the time for or believes.


Toil if you will, it doesnt matter but only to you now anyway,
Whatever keeps you going, and pre occupies your day.
In the end you will know, who has always cared and has been loyal,
As they stand there with tears falling down, while you are returned to the soil.


D. Matthew Beebe

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