The One?

Occasion: Obviously by the summer of 1987 Tina had entirely invaded my life and set up camp in my heart. Nevertheless, I struggled with the time worn question as to whether she could be "the one". Guess what? She was. And is.

Questions in my mind,
Circling all around,
Searching for the love,
That was almost never found.

Could this be the one,
That I thought I’d never find?
Could this be the one,
That would keep me for all time?
Could this be the one,
That would set my mind at rest?
Could this be the one,
That would be the very best?

Looking for an answer,
When my feet don’t touch the ground,
And it makes me start to wonder,
If it’s love that I have found.

This just might be the one,
That I thought I’d never find,
This might be the one,
That will keep me for all time.
This might be the one,
That will set my mind at rest,
This might be the one,
That will be the very best.

Thanks

Occasion: Mothers Day, 1997. I was just finishing up seminary and wanted to share some things with my mom. Not a poem, really, but quasi poetic, so I share it here.

In an email to my mom I wrote...
Hi Mom, it was great talking with you last night. After we got off the phone I started thinking that you have been a really big help to me through all my years of school and I just wanted to say, “Thanks.” There were so many letters and papers that would not have been done half as well without your help. In fact, there are a lot of things that I don’t think I’ve ever taken time to thank you for.

Thanks for taking me to church.
Thanks for letting me skin my knees, et al.
Thanks for letting me climb.
Thanks for brushing my teeth.
Thanks for changing my diapers.
Thanks for loving my wife.
Thanks for loving my dad
Thanks for my brothers and my sister.
Thanks for making me go to school.
Thanks for your prayers.
Thanks for making me something to eat 3 times a day.
Thanks for keeping our house clean.
Thanks for teaching me to iron my clothes.
Thanks for helping me love books.
Thanks for not doing my homework for me.
Thanks for loving my boys.
Thanks for spanking me.
Thanks for helping me choose the right friends.
Thanks for making me do chores.
Thanks for giving me time to play.
Thanks for teaching me to enjoy life, even when I’m busy.
Thanks for doing my laundry.
Thanks for combing my hair.
Thanks for making me a connoisseur of fine coffees.
Thanks for not allowing me to settle for mediocrity.
Thanks for giving us a home to live in, and a house.
Thanks for sacrificing your stuff for me.
Thanks for helping me to wonder at my mundane world.
Thanks for being my girlfriend when no one else would.
Thanks for everything.
Thanks for being my mom.

I love you.

Happy Mother’s Day.

Gather 'Round

Occasion: The death of Washington Preston Young...my grandpa, my namesake, and my hero, 1988.

At supper time and holidays,
Occasions of all kinds,
We gathered at our Grandpa’s house,
With happy hearts and minds.

Some sat beside the fire,
While others sat in chairs,
But all enjoyed each gathering,
Where we had no wants or cares.

We gathered ‘round the Bible,
To hear each wondrous story,
That Grandpa’s shaking voice would read,
While his spirit glowed with glory.

We gathered ‘round the pictures,
Of the clan in times gone past,
And smiles lit up every face,
While all day long we laughed.

Then we gathered round the mem’ries,
As he laid there in his bed,
And remembered how he’d shaped us,
And all the words he’d said.

Now we gather in our sorrow,
As we say our last fare-well,
To the greatest Grandpa ever made,
Who meant too much to tell.

And someday we will see him,
When through life we have trod,
And we’ll hug and kiss him once again,
Gathering ‘round the throne of God.

The Color of Easter

Occasion: Easter Sunday, 1987, Basic Training, Ft. Leonard Wood, Missouri. Of all the days of the year, I was assigned KP on Easter Sunday. I stood washing some very grimy pots and pans, getting prune hands in a big way, and glancing out the window every once in a while. If memory serves, the sunrise was entirely beautiful.

While standing in the twilight,
Early Easter morn,
I thought about the life of Christ,
And the colors that He's worn.

I wish I could have been there,
To see that star shine bright,
And to bow before that manger,
And that little face of WHITE.

I would have been a wise man,
Coming from afar,
Searching for that dazzling life,
Following His star.

And then I think about His life,
And His ministry so bold,
And how despite the hard times,
He shone like purest GOLD.

I would have been a follower,
And seen His love shine through,
To every sinner everywhere,
In shades of ROYAL BLUE.

I think if I'd have been there,
To see His shattered back,
I would have cried forever,
On that gloomy day of BLACK.

I would have been a mourner,
Had I seen His body dead,
And the water flowing from that cross,
Mixed with SCARLET RED.

But by far his resurrection,
Was the fairest color yet,,
It gave us all the chance to call,
On Him when ere we fret

That oh so glorious color,
Is one that none has seen,
But one that none can do without,
And on which all must lean.

I thank you, dear Lord Jesus,
For your colors pure and bright,
And the color, God, of Easter,
Which has saved me from the night.

Wishes

Occasion: This is one of those silly love poems from the heart of a love sick boy. I wrote it in 1985 and I have absolutely no idea which of my many crushes prompted it.

If I could have three wishes,
This is what they’d be,
First I’d be next to the shore,
With you walking next to me.
Next we would be in a far away place,
Where nobody else could find us,
Third we’d be living on Easy Street,
With our troubles and cares all behind us.

Well maybe Easy Street doesn’t exist,
And we’ll always have troubles to face,
And I kind of like having people around,
And this ain’t such a terrible place,
And just cause we live quite away from the shore,
Doesn’t mean that there’s nothing to see,
Cause no matter where or how near or how far,
I’d still like you walking with me.