That's Beautiful

When I come across an iris on my walk across the grass,
when a rose catches my vision with its brightness as I pass,
that's beautiful.


When I sit down with biology and finally get it done,
when my math sticks in my brain and it's somewhere close to fun,
that's beautiful.


When I groan about the morning, then realize it's Saturday,
when I complain about tomorrow, then remember yesterday,
that's beautiful.


When I'm crying and my glasses keep on getting in the way,
when someone's throwing up and the sky is gloomy gray,
when my skirt is ripped, my drink is spilled and much to my dismay
I'm irritated at my siblings, who just won't go away,


That's ... beautiful?


My tears will dry, the sickness ease, the sun will shine again
I'll mend my skirt and wipe the wet and won't I realize then
these troubles are so very small, and even were they not,
God's grace is on and in me, and His will He has well wrought.


And that's beautiful.


Allison Young, 2012

Dad

He is the one that watched me play, He is the one who makes a blue sky from gray.

He is the one who picks me up, He is the one who helps when I'm stuck.

He is the one who does not see my faults, He is the one who likes to make malts.

He is the one who will walk me down the aisle, He is the one who makes me smile.

He is the one who gives advice, He is the one who always smells nice.

He is the one that I have always had, Who is he, he is my dad.

Camille Sterzer, 2012

Bubbles

This is a conglomeration of thoughts and happenings of various spring afternoons of my life, and proof that being a big sister is worthwhile.

Bubbles

Blowing bubbles on the porch ...
Ava! Where do you think you're going?
Little darling.
Chasing circles of rainbow light,
my camera never quite catching them ...
a blur here,
a gust there,
and why do they always vanish as soon as I click the button?
Putting the camera down, scooping Ava up
and blowing a slow bubble.
Angie squeals at the size,
Ava reaches and daintily pops it with her baby-finger,
and laughs.
Grinning back, sitting down on the step
getting chalk on my jeans ...
She squirms out of my lap and points to a ladybug 
in excitement.
Bright black dots on shiny red ...
as Angie blows bubbles that float up
and are lost in so much sky.


Allison Young, 2012