When Beverly was in eighth grade her teacher sent her poem “Stars” to the National High School Poety Association, and she was soon a published writer in Young America Sings, an anthology of Texas high school poetry. Forty years later, she sent an article on fire safety in the home to Happiness magazine, and it was published. In between she went to high school, played clarinet in the band, was a majorette, and graduated. Then she got married had three sons (one an angel in heaven), and attended Midwestern State University. She graduated cum laude with a teaching certificate and had a fourth son. For twenty-two years, she taught children to read and write. They taught her patience.
She lives in the country, where deer sometimes drink from the pond, skunks prowl the yard for leftover dog food, armadillos dig for bugs, and a roadrunner peeks in the glass doors to see what’s happening. Beverly enjoys long walks, photographing birds, deer, clouds, and just about anything. She plays the piano to relax. Her cats don’t appreciate good music and hide when she tickles the ivories. She also teaches a woman’s Sunday school class. And she writes most every day.
Shh, don’t tell anyone, but she’s also known as the “Bug Lady.” She’s not telling why.
The farmer boy who moved to the city
And met the girl who was oh so pretty.
The orphan girl who rode the train from Brooklyn.
And fell in love with the boy who was so good lookin.
Henry Audra Stowe and Leona (Lorena) Adele Chapter Young Stowe
Here’s the poem that started my career, though I didn’t know it at the time.
I often lie awake at night
Watching stars that are so bright.
They sparkle and twinkle in the cool night air
And look like ladies with lovely golden hair.
You see the Big Dipper and the Little Dipper too,
Away up there in the deep dark blue.
But then come the morning rays of light,
And all the stars are gone until the night.