Sharon Young
Sharon and her husband Robert make their home in Spring, Texas. Sharon has been a member of Poets Northwest since 1991 and has served on the board numerous times including the roles of President and Vice President. Past Membership Chairman of the Poetry Society of Texas, she is published in many volumes of A Book of the Year.
Sharon's self-published works Where Dreamers Dwell and Flower Dance include a variety of forms: inspirational rhyme, free verse, haiku and others. Sharon is an avid fan of poetry and enjoys the camaraderie of her fellow poets at Poets Northwest as well as contest challenges and informative speakers.
Sharon's self-published works Where Dreamers Dwell and Flower Dance include a variety of forms: inspirational rhyme, free verse, haiku and others. Sharon is an avid fan of poetry and enjoys the camaraderie of her fellow poets at Poets Northwest as well as contest challenges and informative speakers.
Our Solemn Rights
Our Bill of Rights must pass the test of time
and keep a sense of what is worthy cause.
Our fathers wrote conviction with each line
and fairness given for the good of all.
We have the right to words, but let them be
what help the hearer, not what do him harm.
We have the right to gather and be free
to talk about what causes us alarm.
But as we come together, let us call
attention to the need for peace and trust.
May we not band as warriors fighting all
who may, in fact, be brothers needing us.
We have the right to arms but may we hold
a high regard for what each life is worth.
And in our doing so, be clear and bold
regarding what is safe for children first.
The spirit of our Rights must not be lost
in motives that are selfish and debased.
Our fathers called us all to count the cost
and wisely understand the trials we face.
As years go by, may we not lose our sight
but with perspective, reach until we hold
an understanding of our solemn Rights
of liberty, of life and worthy goal.
© Sharon Young
For permission to publish or otherwise share this poem, please contact Sharon.
Our Solemn Rights was published by the Poetry Society of Texas in its anthology A Book of the Year 2005.
and keep a sense of what is worthy cause.
Our fathers wrote conviction with each line
and fairness given for the good of all.
We have the right to words, but let them be
what help the hearer, not what do him harm.
We have the right to gather and be free
to talk about what causes us alarm.
But as we come together, let us call
attention to the need for peace and trust.
May we not band as warriors fighting all
who may, in fact, be brothers needing us.
We have the right to arms but may we hold
a high regard for what each life is worth.
And in our doing so, be clear and bold
regarding what is safe for children first.
The spirit of our Rights must not be lost
in motives that are selfish and debased.
Our fathers called us all to count the cost
and wisely understand the trials we face.
As years go by, may we not lose our sight
but with perspective, reach until we hold
an understanding of our solemn Rights
of liberty, of life and worthy goal.
© Sharon Young
For permission to publish or otherwise share this poem, please contact Sharon.
Our Solemn Rights was published by the Poetry Society of Texas in its anthology A Book of the Year 2005.
I Hear the Sun Rise
I hear the sun rise when all else is still
and color spills over the sky
With highlight of laughter while daylily trills
her song before new morning eyes.
In brightness of silence God wakens a sound
that only His stillness can hold
While music is played on the rim of a cloud
in colors of crimson and gold.
I join in a chorus to sing with the earth
the quiet, the calm of the day
That calls me to listen with vision, the birth
of all the Creator would say.
When evening begins to exchange with the dawn
the dusk that slips slowly to night,
I hear in the shadows a whisper of song
while stars strum their chorus of light.
© Sharon Young
For permission to publish or otherwise share this poem, please contact Sharon.
I Hear the Sun Rise was published by the Poetry Society of Texas in its anthology A Book of the Year 2006.
I hear the sun rise when all else is still
and color spills over the sky
With highlight of laughter while daylily trills
her song before new morning eyes.
In brightness of silence God wakens a sound
that only His stillness can hold
While music is played on the rim of a cloud
in colors of crimson and gold.
I join in a chorus to sing with the earth
the quiet, the calm of the day
That calls me to listen with vision, the birth
of all the Creator would say.
When evening begins to exchange with the dawn
the dusk that slips slowly to night,
I hear in the shadows a whisper of song
while stars strum their chorus of light.
© Sharon Young
For permission to publish or otherwise share this poem, please contact Sharon.
I Hear the Sun Rise was published by the Poetry Society of Texas in its anthology A Book of the Year 2006.
Rain Lily
The lily comes alive with each new rain
and in a random circle frames the pine.
With every drop, the cloud her life sustains
until with ray of hope, the sunlight shines.
Though weeping may endure all through the night,
there is a promise that the Father gives--
the morning will restore things, good and bright
and waken in our hearts a will to live.
-- written for the Tranchini Family
in memory of our Mariano
© Sharon Young
For permission to publish or otherwise share this poem, please contact Sharon.
The lily comes alive with each new rain
and in a random circle frames the pine.
With every drop, the cloud her life sustains
until with ray of hope, the sunlight shines.
Though weeping may endure all through the night,
there is a promise that the Father gives--
the morning will restore things, good and bright
and waken in our hearts a will to live.
-- written for the Tranchini Family
in memory of our Mariano
© Sharon Young
For permission to publish or otherwise share this poem, please contact Sharon.
New Every Morning
Let me hear thy loving kindness
in the morning. . .
Psalm 143:8a
The loving kindness of Creator calls
upon the eastern edge of each new day.
With tenderness, His light streams through our halls
to waken in our hearts a will to praise.
The skylark waits with eagerness for skies
of warm, inviting wavelets from the dawn,
which cause her morning choruses to rise
across a dewy rivulet of song.
Every waking creature wills to move
as if to hear a voice that beckons, “Live!”
And with their step to flight or grace to bloom,
they drink each vibrant ray the dawning gives.
Let me arise, delight myself in sound,
immerse in light as glory gathers down.
© Sharon Young
For permission to publish or otherwise share this poem, please contact Sharon.
I Hear the Sun Rise was published by the Poetry Society of Texas in its anthology A Book of the Year 2006.
Let me hear thy loving kindness
in the morning. . .
Psalm 143:8a
The loving kindness of Creator calls
upon the eastern edge of each new day.
With tenderness, His light streams through our halls
to waken in our hearts a will to praise.
The skylark waits with eagerness for skies
of warm, inviting wavelets from the dawn,
which cause her morning choruses to rise
across a dewy rivulet of song.
Every waking creature wills to move
as if to hear a voice that beckons, “Live!”
And with their step to flight or grace to bloom,
they drink each vibrant ray the dawning gives.
Let me arise, delight myself in sound,
immerse in light as glory gathers down.
© Sharon Young
For permission to publish or otherwise share this poem, please contact Sharon.
I Hear the Sun Rise was published by the Poetry Society of Texas in its anthology A Book of the Year 2006.
Falling Blossoms
Apple blossoms take to season’s flight
And fall to blanket earth like whirling snow.
From patterns of our past we think it right
That beauty shines, then willingly lets go.
The maple dons its most impressive gown
And then undresses, unashamedly,
When autumn wind sweeps in and leaves drift down
To cuddle in their heaps beneath the tree.
Nature does not weep with life at rest.
She understands the cycle of her days.
She lets the seasons do what they deem best
And never questions their expected ways.
I wonder if she understands the tears
That fall with all the blossoms of my years.
© Sharon Young
For permission to publish or otherwise share this poem, please contact Sharon.
I Hear the Sun Rise was published by the Poetry Society of Texas in its anthology A Book of the Year 2004.
Apple blossoms take to season’s flight
And fall to blanket earth like whirling snow.
From patterns of our past we think it right
That beauty shines, then willingly lets go.
The maple dons its most impressive gown
And then undresses, unashamedly,
When autumn wind sweeps in and leaves drift down
To cuddle in their heaps beneath the tree.
Nature does not weep with life at rest.
She understands the cycle of her days.
She lets the seasons do what they deem best
And never questions their expected ways.
I wonder if she understands the tears
That fall with all the blossoms of my years.
© Sharon Young
For permission to publish or otherwise share this poem, please contact Sharon.
I Hear the Sun Rise was published by the Poetry Society of Texas in its anthology A Book of the Year 2004.
