A Great Big Heart 11-27-16

Here sitting on an old park bench,
I watched the folks walk by.
They scurried here and scurried there
for something else to buy.

Surrounded by bright colored lights

were reindeer and a sleigh.

I saw a girl searching 'round

and this I heard her say,

"I can't find Jesus anywhere.

The stable's not in view.

The shepherds should be somewhere here.

The wise men should be too.

"Where is Christmas?  Where is Christmas?"

she came to me and asked.

To answer her great question seemed

a hopeless, futile task.

I thought awhile before reply.

I hoped it would suffice.
I felt so dumb and speechless but

I offered this advice.

"You know that Christmas isn't Santa,

nor presents under tree.

It isn't fancy colored lights

nor anything we see.

"You can't find Christmas in the mall

or here along the street.

And Christmas isn't green or red.

All that is just deceit.

"Impressed, I am, how smart you are.
You question everything.
I'm glad you know of Jesus' birth
and why the church bells ring.

"No, Christmas isn't what they think

and these folks must admit -

if Christmas isn't in their hearts,

they'll simply never find it."

She stood there quiet for a bit,

then turned and walked away.

She walked in thought quite slowly, so

I prayed she was okay.

I hoped I didn't puzzle her
or tear her dreams apart...

But then she turned, called back to me,

"I have a great big heart!"

I didn't see her after that
but knew she'd be okay.
This bench and I hold memories
as others run astray.

©2016 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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You Know Me Well 11-19-16

My breath on pane

is all in vain.

It's bitter cold outside.

With fog on glass,

the hours pass.

I swallow deep, my pride.

The plume atop

my quill would stop

with only me to thank.

There are no herds

of rhyming words.

My frozen mind is blank.

I pray to God
but find it odd
that rhyme's don't come to me.
At any cost
I am so lost.
Is this just meant to be?

But it is rare,

that I would dare

to leave before I write.
Though inkwell's here

words disappear

on parchment through the night.

Not thinking 'prose'

my words are froze

just as it is outdoors -

with barren trees

all stripped of leaves,

like extinct dinosaurs.

Now I confess

that I digress

from what I want to say.

It sure does seem

I'm losing steam.

My poem drifts away.

Should I explore

my mind some more -
that's vast as the frontier -

or let you think

I'm out of ink

and end this poem here?

Oh, what's the use

for such a truce?

I'm finished anyhow.

I sure can tell

you know me well.

You're raising one eyebrow.

©2016 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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Come With Me 11-12-16

Please come with me while we stand tall

and give to those awaiting call

who haven't any hope.

My tears run as a waterfall,

pour off my cheeks for one and all.

I don't know how they cope.

Now Susie is a dancer

She's nine, but now has cancer.

She's on a newer drug.

The days are slow.  She sits alone

'tween night and day in twilight zone.

She needs someone to hug.

Meet David with clef palate

who plays on old wood pallet

each long and boredom day.

His mother doesn't have a house.

He's shy and quiet as a mouse

and has nothing to say.

Meet Bobby Jean who's starving -

while turkeys we are carving -

for our Thanksgiving feast.

She needs some clothes and needs a bath.

She did not choose this endless path.

Of these, she is the 'least'.

Meet the Muslim boy, Abdul.

He's beaten hard and it's so cruel.

He studies the Koran.

If you were him, you would be too

and studying a twisted view

to be an evil man.

Please come with me while we stand tall

and give to those awaiting call

who haven't any hope.

My tears run as a waterfall,

pour off my cheeks for one and all.

I don't know how they cope.

©2016 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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