Now That's Christmas!! 11-10-08

.

Sending the gifts to place under the tree -
or

sending His Son - in place of me?

Presents all wrapped under colorful bows -
or

a baby wrapped in swaddling clothes?

Watching a tree, its flashing star -
or

watching three wise men come from afar?

Seeing a horse pull a grand open sleigh -
or

seeing a babe fast asleep on the hay?

Knowing that children are still waking up -
or

knowing that Jesus must drink from the cup?

Children all screaming at presents galore -
or

people all screaming, their anger outpour?

Children who struggled with patient surprise -
or

Jesus who struggled with tears in His eyes?

Proof there was chocolate I got with a whiff -
or

proof that God loves us with His special Gift?

Gifts from our mother and father we love -
or

gifts of blessings from our Father above?

Sharing the truth with each, one another -
or

sharing Jesus to our sister and brother?

A warm embrace -
or

His matchless grace?

Giving -
or

forgiving?

Now that's Christmas!
The greatest gift!

©2008 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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Mother 11-8-08

If a picture's worth a thousand words,
each word, a pound of letters -
then mother tops the sunsets
and pounds of gold from debtors.

Mere words describe so many things,
each one beside another -
and words explain those many things
but can't describe my mother.

A million smiles can't match her worth.
She carries loving scars.
Her gifts surpass bright rainbows' arcs.
Her worth exceeds the stars.

My mother's very special and
the only one I'll get -
and I'm the one she could afford.
I love her quite a bit.

So what explains my mother now?
What in my vast report?
And what describes my mother when
my many words fall short?

We shared so many memories,
our hearts shared many years -
so what describes my mother is -
the love within my tears...

©2008 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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Proverbs 31:(KJV)
10"Who can find a virtuous woman? for her price is far above rubies.
11The heart of her husband doth safely trust in her, so that he shall have no need of spoil.
12She will do him good and not evil all the days of her life.
13She seeketh wool, and flax, and worketh willingly with her hands.
14She is like the merchants' ships; she bringeth her food from afar.
15She riseth also while it is yet night, and giveth meat to her household, and a portion to her maidens.
16She considereth a field, and buyeth it: with the fruit of her hands she planteth a vineyard.
17She girdeth her loins with strength, and strengtheneth her arms.
18She perceiveth that her merchandise is good: her candle goeth not out by night.
19She layeth her hands to the spindle, and her hands hold the distaff.
20She stretcheth out her hand to the poor; yea, she reacheth forth her hands to the needy.
21She is not afraid of the snow for her household: for all her household are clothed with scarlet.
22She maketh herself coverings of tapestry; her clothing is silk and purple.
23Her husband is known in the gates, when he sitteth among the elders of the land.
24She maketh fine linen, and selleth it; and delivereth girdles unto the merchant.
25Strength and honour are her clothing; and she shall rejoice in time to come.
26She openeth her mouth with wisdom; and in her tongue is the law of kindness.
27She looketh well to the ways of her household, and eateth not the bread of idleness.
28Her children arise up, and call her blessed; her husband also, and he praiseth her.
29Many daughters have done virtuously, but thou excellest them all.
30Favour is deceitful, and beauty is vain: but a woman that feareth the LORD, she shall be praised."

World's Apart 11-8-08

EVERY DAY, God shows us our imperfection -
by giving us an imperfect world.

Men with pride, and a world of governments.
Men with deception, and a world of ways to fall off high mountains.
Men with anger, and a world of volcano's.
Men with tempers, and a world of earthquakes.
Men with confusion, and a world of thick, dark rain forests.
Men with hate, and a world of hurricanes and tornado's.
Men with lust, and a world of deserts.
Men with greed, and a world of floods.
Men who are wild, and a world of wild animals.
Men who get drunk, and a world of waters for drowning.

Yes, EVERY DAY, God shows us our imperfection -
by giving us an imperfect world.
However.... INSIDE this imperfect world is yet another world -
of perfection and of beauty and of miracles.

The perfection of an atom.
-of a dry seed planted.
-of the balance of the heavens.

The beauty of a rose.
-of a hummingbird.
-of a sunset.

The miracle of life.
-of healing.
-of the cross.

Only God creates.
Only God heals.
Only God can.

Yes, INSIDE this imperfect world is yet another world -
of perfection and of beauty and of miracles.

Isn't God showing us something?
Do we have eyes?
Isn't God telling us something?
Do we have ears?
Hasn't God proved something?
Do we really know?

Imperfection to show perfection.
Imperfection to understand perfection.
Imperfection to prove perfection.

Can we see the picture here?
Do we hear the message?
Will we ever understand?

Imperfection to perfection.
Outer flesh to the inner heart.
By grace through faith.

Man blames God - but God is Love.
Man sends big earth movers - but God sent Jesus.
Man yearns - but God holds.

The outside world of flesh - to the "heart" of perfection.
Hell and damnation - to everlasting life....
World's Apart.

©2008 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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Do Not Wait 11-07-08

It's not too late. It's not the end,
if now you start to comprehend.
It's not too late to understand,
the beauty of God's grace at hand.

So realize it's all of grace,
about His love, about His face -
to focus on and answer, "yes".
It's not too late to now profess.

It's not too late if tears you shed,
though you may be on your deathbed.
If humbled heart can ask Him now.
It's not too late to repent now.

Satan claims the time has passed,
but Jesus' grace has so surpassed,
the limits of all man and beast.
You're only late if you're deceased.

So do not think at this late date,
that it is over - it's too late.
God patiently awaits your word.
He loves you more than beast or bird.

Can you not see Him at the gates?
Your solemn vow He still awaits.
He has called and you will see,
if broken, crumbled, meek will be.

The promises of God above,
will so surpass all earthly love,
where rust and rot and all decays,
where earthly focus never pays.

Through faith in Him you'll always find,
(so be ye humble, be ye kind)
contentment and a lasting peace,
where sinful guilt and anguish cease.

Don't be greedy. Don't be proud,
No arrogance - is there - allowed.
So call to Him both man and wife,
that you may have eternal life.

He will carry you on through,
If faith's in Him and not in you.
So call on Him - shed burdens weight.
Pray right now and do not wait.

©2008 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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More Than Words 11-2-08

Reciting prayers for two thousand years
won't make them anymore truthful -
and reading, planning all day long,
won't make us anymore fruitful.

And where is the prayer when it is spoke
if no one understands it?
Where are the prayers when acts don't match,
with words and acts so split?

A cake might be the perfect one and hungry eyes may lurk -
but the oven must be hot enough for everything to work.
And cakes are more than recipes and more than ingredients.
Prayers cannot exist alone - but take obedience.

While birth is more than birth pangs and a baby we're proud of.
Love is more than marriage and, God is more than love.
Life is more than a beating heart - one sparrow, more than birds.
And life is more - once it's lived - as a prayer is more than words.

©2008 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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Worn Out 11-2-08

.
I can see but I can't see.
I can hear but I can't hear.
I can sing but I can't sing.
I can fear but I can't fear.
I can love but I can't love.
I can grow but I can't grow.
I can live but I can't live.
I can know but I can't know.

Like road run over many time,
I wrinkle, crack, become the grime.
For years the world has crushed me down
and turned my innards gritty, brown.

The sin of man with fire's roar,
has burned me to my inner core.
It's sent me on a beaten track
and soot has turned me satan black.

It pulled the flesh right off my skin.
It takes nutrition, makes me thin.
It's thrown my bones both far and near
and tells me I belong right here.

I can see but not Your face.
I can hear but not for hours.
I can sing but not in tune.
I can fear but not Your powers.
I can love corrupted space.
I can grow - not healthy though.
I can live but I can't give.
I can know but I don't glow.

Dear Lord and Savior, hear my plea.
There's really nothing left of me.
Take me home to live with thee.
Help me die that I might see.

Die to self and all that haunts.
Die to "things" and all that flaunts.
Please rip my soul from deep within,
then pave me white - renew again.

I was pounded ear to ear
with traffic noise, I couldn't hear,
Blind from dirt, I couldn't see.
Dear Lord and Savior, forgive me.

Help me see Your splendid face.
Help me hear You every hour.
Help me sing a life in tune.
Help me fear but not to cower.
Help me love that greatest gift.
Help me grow in faith and deed.
Help me live that I could give.
Help me go and spread the seed..

Blot out now the earthly scrawl.
These words cannot explain it all.
You can hear and You can see -
so Holy Spirit - enter me.

©2008 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
www.ganderpoems.org/

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Prologue

“I’m not an expert writer
and never claimed to be.

I hold no degree.

Friends suggested that I put
this collection into book form
so I did.

2004 – 2008
Special thanks I give to all my friends -
for their help, support, knowledge and patience with me.

This world is filled with greed, lust, envy, deceit,
hatred, war, and death....

Therefore, I pray that these writings inspire you,
that you would reflect God's love
and reflect Christ's light
in this dark world of sin.

There is no substitute for God's precious gift
of grace through His precious Son, Jesus.

Believe it. Faithfully pray, and live it out.

I have no interest in 30 pieces of silver.
There will never be a penny of profit on any of these poems.
ALL proceeds will go to spreading the Word.

Mark 16:15 (KJV)
"And he said unto them, Go ye into all the world, and preach the gospel to every creature."

Focused on God, by grace through His Son,
through faith, steadfastness,
and personal love and charity.

~ louis gander

Tickled Ears 11-1-08

We do things in life to make our ourselves happy.

remembering also, our friends and our family.

Sometimes we say things to make someone proud.

If others can hear us we might say them loud.

Compromise happens if jobs we must keep,

even though words come in multitudes, cheap.

Here we might bend - or waver some there,

but why does it matter and why should we care?

Sometimes it goes on for years and for years,

as everyone listens with fun-tickled ears.

But truth must ignore both the wink and nod....

Should we care what man thinks - or rather God?

©2008 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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2 Timothy 4:3 (NASB)

"For the time will come when they will not endure sound doctrine; but wanting to have their ears tickled, they will accumulate for themselves teachers in accordance to their own desires,"

Child-like Faith 11-1-08

You spanked me when I stole or lied,

yet always hugged me when I cried.

When I knew not just what to do,

I trusted you to see me though.

I felt so safe from all the crime,

as you helped me in your spare time.

Remember visits - Grandma's house,

when I spilled Kool-aid on her blouse?

I remember the circus and clowns;

Elephants, tigers – all the sounds.

I love the animals in our zoo,

but mostly mommy, I love you.

Last year, mom, when I was seven,

You spoke of Jesus, God in Heaven.

Please hold my hand, it's dark tonight.

Jesus holds my other, tight.

Your eyes say I won't make it through,

but I know Jesus loves me too.

You're worried, mom, but please don't be -

Jesus has reached down to me.

I see big scars in the palms of his hands.

He must have worked hard on Heaven's plans.

Forgive me mommy when I wasn't good,

because Jesus did. He understood.

Jesus grips my other hand.

I must let go, He tugs me and -

I wish there was another way -

but let go mommy... it's okay.

©2008 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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Stale Bread & Smelly Fish 10-29-08

First created in His image - then threw out of Eden.
What dominion was received to plow the seeds of men?

Satan owns deception, and this is his proposal:
"World's tools you cannot use. They're all at my disposal".

But yet, those very tools, that lies could not destroy;
helped Jesus feed five thousand - with food from one small boy.

Now did he pay attention, when he heard Jesus' call?
Or did he wait for someone else’s food to feed them all?

What if no one listened? What if no one shared?
What if no one bothered? What if no one cared?

Did intimidation strike him - with grownups to compare?
What if he stood silent? Would everybody stare?

I'm sure the bread was stale. I'm sure the fish was smelly -
and who made him responsible to feed their hungry belly?

What if doubts were planted - not knowing if he could?
What if faith and fish and bread – seemed so little good?

Was he called to do such things - to worry 'bout the present?
Or was he called to preach the Word? Are words the full intent?

Do we think there's someone else - who God will call by name,
and therefore won't engage ourselves? Who then would be to blame?

But Jesus proved His miracles, with meager food and powers;
God created fish and bread - then blesses us with ours.

Did Jesus sit in synagogues? Was He not salt and light?
And did He reach beyond those doors? Did He not lead the fight?

The "experts" did not like Him. He wasn't keeping quiet.
He questioned all their politic. Their answer then was riot.

Three times disciples fell asleep, so tell me if you please;
Were they really faithful as He wept there on His knees?

Please, can someone tell me, Is faith without works dead?
Was Jesus really faithful when – the thorns cut deep, His head?

Was Jesus really faithful then - with shouts of insults said?
Was Jesus really faithful, when on the cross He bled?

Was Jesus really faithful - our nails, He took instead?
Was Jesus really faithful - when life hung by a thread?

Now tell me - was He faithful when they pronounced Him dead?
And can anybody tell me - that words suffice instead?

Jesus sweat before that cross - but works, did not subdue;
for Jesus did not only pray - He also followed through.

I suppose it's time to ask myself - (regarding that young boy),
Have I sat in idleness - and with it, helped destroy?

What impact do I have today? What is my greatest wish?
Did that small boy surpass me with - stale bread and smelly fish?

©2008 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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Futility 10-18-08

Futility:
is a cry unheard -
or a star unseen.

Futility:
is a dictionary never opened -
or eyes that cannot read.

Futility:
is a termite encased in a metal box -
or seeds, in a sealed package, never planted.

Futility:
is the worlds most beautiful flower in a forest unseen -
or a forest with no beautiful flowers.

Futility:
is the greatest sermon preached - to an empty room -
or a room full of bodies that a sermon doesn't move.

Futility:
is a microphone unplugged -
or headphones on deaf ears.

Futility:
is a world of envy -
or a state of hate.

Futility:
is deceptiive love -
or worthless riches.

Futility:
is kissing a toad -
or hugging a flag pole.

Futility:
is outside a fancy door, doing nothing -
or opening the biggest door to nowhere.

Futility:
is the hardest worker, with no understanding -
or the greatest mind in a body never worked.

Futility:
is a hole dug - just before caving back in -
or the greatest, tallest mountain of debt.

Futility:
is a king without his subjects -
or subjects without their king.

Futility:
is having been given an unusable brain -
or given a mind which is thoughtless.

Futility:
It's doom, agony, despair, life without purpose -
It's fruitless, full of pain and hopelessness.

Futility:
It's sin, the absence of appreciation -
It’s lacking thankfulness for every blessing.

Futility:
It's death on a cross without sufficient grace -
It’s the great deceptive arrogance of 'works' by man.

Futility.
It comes in many shapes and sizes -
It thrives like a stubborn weed - when faith is weak.

Futility:
It's life without faith in the almighty God -
or lifelessness without His grace, under cold sod.

©2008 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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LOST? 10-13-08

Are you listening? Are you troubled? Is anybody there?

Does anybody know your pain? Does anybody care?

I guess you can't be hopeful for the world to understand -

that pain is so immense when clay is formed with potters' hand.

I know affliction pained the God who sent His Son to die,

for us, who spent our time in ways - that lent to Satan's lie.

In seconds, minutes, hours - in years, months, weeks and days,

We've locked up so much precious time - in all our selfish ways.

I know He understands you and - He knows your every pain -

because He's pulled this very clay from each and every chain.

Chains that seemed so innocent and chains that seemed so right,

but chains that I locked on myself and chains that I clasped tight.

Are you listening? Are you troubled? Is anybody there?

Does anybody know your pain? Does anybody care?

We do - your family. I do. Though just a Christian friend,

I know that grace trumps judgment - where guilt and suffering end.

He understands you fully. Its you He wants to heal.

Jesus went before you and He knows just how you feel.

Creations' GOD still cries out loud when molding you because,

the God of Love (who had to send - His Son here) surely does.

©2008 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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What Value? 9-21-08

What value are birds - without their wings?

What value is music - if no one sings?

What value is law - without pursuit?

What value are works - without good fruit?

What value are lungs - without the air?

What value are fathers - never there?

What value is wisdom – if not begun?

What value is Christmas - without God's Son?

What value are scythes - without the weeds?

What value is harvest - without the seeds?

What value are ovens - if not hotter?

What value is clay - without the potter?

What value are baths - without the soap?

What value is grace - without the hope?

What value are answers - without questions?

What value are tears – without confessions?

What value is hope - if we're naive?

What value is faith - if we can't believe?

What value is kindness - without the prayer?

What value are actions - if can’t be spared?

What value are judges - if they aren't fair?

What value is Heaven - if we aren't there?

What value is cycling - without fitness?

What value are Christians - who bear no witness?

©2008 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

Matthew 10:(KJV)

32Whosoever therefore shall confess me before men, him will I confess also before my Father which is in heaven. 33But whosoever shall deny me before men, him will I also deny before my Father which is in heaven.... 37He that loveth father or mother more than me is not worthy of me: and he that loveth son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me. 38And he that taketh not his cross, and followeth after me, is not worthy of me. 39He that findeth his life shall lose it: and he that loseth his life for my sake shall find it. 40He that receiveth you receiveth me, and he that receiveth me receiveth him that sent me.

Matthew 19:(NASB)

29 "And everyone who has left houses or brothers or sisters or father or mother or children or farms for My name's sake, will receive many times as much, and will inherit eternal life.

30"But many who are first will be last; and the last, first."

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One Precise Location 9-16-08

There’s one precise location - where lies and truths abide.

It's proven in this big old world where sin and love collide.

With fights and angry battles, with bombs and deadly wars -

yet also acts of kindness - love, forgiveness, open doors.

Now if all wars were ended - and battles could subside,

and wars’ dust finally settled - and guns were set aside;

still sin and love would be at war – battling years and years,

and sin would deceive many - as love would dry the tears.

Deep down inside all soldiers of war torn battled states,

and way down deep inside us all - are two specific gates.

The 'will' that we were given and the trails we would choose,

are sin that shuns, or love that puts - us in our Godly shoes.

Was Jesus much too busy - to heal a withered hand,

to heal the blind or heal the lame - so we might understand?

Jesus loved His enemies – even while on the cross,

and how we love each other is - deep below our gloss.

God still loves the least of these. I cannot answer why,

but when I stumbled on that truth, it made this old man cry.

From one precise location, our Lord was ripped apart.

That very place for our own cross, is deep within our heart....

©2008 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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Matthew 5:44-45 (NASB)

"But I say to you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, so that you may be sons of your Father who is in heaven; for He causes His sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous.”

Jesus 9-13-08

Jesus never hurt anyone.

Jesus never turned away from a need.

Jesus healed.

Jesus fed.

Jesus helped.

Jesus loved.

Yet the world hated Him.

Why?

The world condemned Him.

The world charged Him.

The world judged Him.

The world mocked Him.

The world hung Him.

The world killed Him.

The world still uses His name in vain.

Why?

What kind of reward is that for helping, healing, and loving others?

How do we respond to this truth?

Do we care?

We are - either ‘hot’ or ‘cold’ – not lukewarm.

God so loved the world that He gave.

Jesus so loved that He gave himself.

How much are we willing to give?

What have we done?

©2008 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

www.ganderpoems.org

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Matthew 25:40

"The King will reply, 'I tell you the truth,

whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.'”

The Great Commission 9-10-08

.

I have no time that I can spend,

and have no pain that I can mend.

I have no notion I can be,

yet have this image I can see.

I feel a sorrow I can't share,

and feel a pain I cannot bear.

I feel a breeze I cannot clutch,

so can I feel the Master's touch?

I swallow food I do not grow,

and swallow facts I do not know.

I swallow pills I do not taste,

yet swallow words which are a waste.

I hear a thunder I can't make,

and hear a wind I cannot shake.

I hear a silence - not by choice -

so I hear that caring voice?

I know the people I can't fudge,

and know the facts I cannot judge.

I know the shepherd, not the herds,

but do I know my Saviors words?

I see a rainbow I can't chase,

and see a light I cannot race.

I see a world I cannot reach,

yet see His love that I might teach.

I love desserts I can't consume,

and love the rose that might not bloom.

I love the world I do not know,

but God so loved so should I go?

I know the things I cannot touch,

and jobs I have don't matter much.

I know the scriptures - sea to sea,

My God knows me, but do I, He?

©2008 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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Only One, Times Millions 9-2-08

I sit alone. The birds fly past.
They soar with wings, in world so vast.
I sit alone. A butterfly,
so beautiful, floats silent by.

I sit alone. The breezes blow.
They pass me by, but they don't know.
I sit alone, the sky deep blue.
The clouds roll by. I think of you.

I sit alone. No child I know,
for you were taken, long ago.
I sit alone. Who is aware?
Oh, who can change it? Someone care?

I sit alone, you were "removed".
The world applauds, the world approved.
I sit alone, but cannot stay.
The world forgets, so now I pray.

I go alone, just one more tear.
I've cried out loud, year after year.
I go alone, now very weak,
have no more tears for either cheek.

I go alone, with millions lost.
Oh, who can end this holocaust?
I go alone, while one more throat,
is slit again. They want my vote?

I go alone. Nothing I say,
can bring you back to me today.
I go alone, but never you,
for you're with God. He saw you through.

only one deathly choice, times millions,
only one abortion, times millions,
only one tiny tear, times millions,
only one repenting, times millions,
only one work of grace, times millions,
only one act of love, times millions,
only one humble prayer, times millions,
only one good work, times millions,
only one faithful voice, times millions,
and only one lonely vote, times millions,
- with one great and mighty God.

©2008 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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WWJS? 8-10-08

Circumstances do arise,
for all we're going through,
and in response, we ask ourselves,
"What would Jesus do?"

She had faith and touched His hem,
His garment she could feel;
another held his treasures, so
Who did Jesus heal?

Spiritually or worldly -
will God or man we fear;
and when we say our daily prayers,
Who will Jesus hear?

Disciples, they were sleeping,
as Jesus down, did kneel;
sweating then, as drops like blood,
What did Jesus feel?

Hate and anger ruled the crowd,
propelled their sudden haste;
and as they hung Him on the cross,
What did Jesus taste?

Few are humble, many smart,
but vital is this key;
when now He looks into your heart,
What does Jesus see?

To everyone, both you and I,
death calls one final day;
so when we stand before our Judge,
What will Jesus say?

©2008 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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The Old Locomotive 7-24-08

The old locomotive moves "we the people" on our way.
It's gained a lot of speed from then - until right now, today.
Where is this locomotive? Where is it headed to?
We need to know - for after all - it holds both me and you.

Gold and silver limits us, so those we did not need.
With paper it was easier to satisfy our greed.
Bureaucracy has taxed us all. It taxed us as we grew,
taxes those that sell us food and taxes dishes too.

It taxes every kitchen, every bathroom, every yard.
It taxes every one of us without the least regard.
It taxes all our products and taxes all our goods.
It puts a tax right where we live and even taxes woods.

It taxes every home and car and taxes all our fuel.
It taxes every thing we have - including heat and cool.
It taxes all our income and it taxes what we sell,
and if it had ability could tax its way to hell.

Our borders have been broken and are leaving us so bare,
and then when there's a killing.... do politicians care?
They talk and talk and talk some more and find someone to blame.
but then when they are finally done - continues on the same.

In the dining car we ride - merrily on our way.
Never do we say a word lest we become their prey.
The bureaucrats that wish to ride up in that locomotive,
just do their job oblivious - to legislators' motive.

We go to work to pay some more and ship our kids to schools,
It matters not what they are taught - for we must follow rules.
But when they mess our children up - it's not their fault you see,
as every finger pointing - is at either you or me.

We get accustomed in our rut, accustomed to their cause,
because of fear, accept it all, and do not question laws.
The locomotive speeds along the tracks now ever faster,
but no one has a clue for what becomes a sure disaster.

It glides along so easily as feelings conquer facts,
but all will soon be over when it sails beyond the tracks.
With lifeless bodies everywhere - the poor to those of fame –
at least we all can rest assured - that none will point in blame.

©2008 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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This Old Scrap Of Burlap 7-21-08

This big, bright world,
is like a drawer full of lace,
though I feel like a leftover rag;
quite awkward, uneasy,
and so out of place.

Lace is chosen
by those with whom they connect.
and selecting their own special piece;
they want their lives
to be so perfect.

Then stew they will
when things go terribly wrong.
Their lace gets soiled, stained and tattered.
For this worlds special lace
doesn’t last too long.

They’re all sewn up,
still seeking what cannot mend....
But this leftover rag, this old scrap of burlap;
though nowhere near perfect,
is still your special friend.

©2008 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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