Gander Story Poems

August 12, 2013

Splash! 8-12-13

Oh, splash! Your feet in puddle went - and there, without a doubt,

how blissful 'twas, to be a kid, as water splashed about.

Your life was fun and easy then. You lived a life of ease.

And very far and few between, responsibilities.

And how you've learned your every right as those truths went to seed.

Although you didn't know it then, you grew up under greed.

You've made demands for 'this and that'. You've voted your own way.

and you gave little thought - that one day someone has to pay.

No love can rid the kids of hate. That anger's deep within -

but don't say 'God' or pray in schools - for that would be a sin.

You hate the Ten Commandments, (you know, don't steal or kill).

It only matters - you're not shot as morals go downhill.

Now it's no fault of criminals. You'd best just run off quick.

They have the right to stand their ground. You hear the door locks click.

And when they break into your house, be glad that you're 'gun free'.

Just make a call to 9-1-1. They'll come, just wait and see...

You terrorize Conservatives from Detroit's ghostly town.

You're getting high on cannabis while Rome is burning down.

You hate it when some seek the truth, exposing every cronie -

but they've convinced you followers that everything is phoney.

The IRS, the NSA - they 'plead the fifth' and lie -

but if you owe a dollar more, they'll make you want to cry.

Benghazi - "What's it matter?" They said it wasn't true.

There's nothing you should care about - unless it affects you.

They talk you into circles while they throw you into mazes.

You're voting for your pocketbooks. They're voting for their raises.

You thought your perfect job secure. You've been there many years -

but as employment dissipates, you'll soon be left in tears.

Do not expect full raises and - to cut your spending, (half).

Get trained to flip a burger now. Diplomas are a laugh.

Oh sure, you've stepped on other folks - and yes, there is no doubt -

you've trampled each last liberty. Now freedoms you're without.

You've forfeited and voided each and every Bill of Right.

Your ignorance, embarrassing, but claim your future's bright.

The 'land of opportunity'? About it, do not think.

Elitists burned the Constitution. It is now extinct.

You're slaves, but they've convinced you that they work on your behalf.

The poor get poorer, rich get richer - ohhh, but they can laugh!

Who cares that they get richer now? Just pass another beer!

Celebrate, you liberals - your socialism's here!

You kill a healthy pregnancy - then ask you're treated fair -

and mandate others are insured to pay for your health care.

They will watch your every move and make sure you don't cheat -

and wait 'til they put limits on the food that you will eat.

You get your way in everything. You think you know it all.

You voiced your hard opinions loud. Your arrogance stands tall.

And so you worship your own 'god' as you invent your cult.

You've lost your soul and liberties - but it was Bush's fault.

Yes, splash! Your feet on freedoms go - and now, without a doubt,

you think it's bliss to be naive - but you will thrash about.

You've made their lives so easy now as they live lives of ease -

as they exempt themselves from all... responsibilities.

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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August 3, 2013

Everything To God 8-3-13

For God so loves the 'least of these'.

He knows you love them too.

And though they're very needy, they

are always watching you.

Though you are very special,

you're always very poor.

Though ample, your possessions here,

there's nothing you've worked for.

You work so hard. Accomplishments?

There's nothing on your list.

You're nothing to this sinful world.

To them, you just exist.

Your works are but a filthy rag.

Deep wrinkles fill your face.

But unlike many people here

you have accepted grace.

You pray for ALL your enemies.

You love instead of hate.

Oh, you are very special -

but do not think you're great.

Your faithfulness just seems to grow -

yet you seem unfulfilled.

You think you're going nowhere fast...

Your busy days are filled.

And that's how Satan tears you down.

The masses think you're odd.

You're nothing to this sinful world...

but everything to God!

For God so loves the 'least of these'.

He knows you love them too.

And though they're very needy, they

are always watching you.

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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July 15, 2013

Twenty Third Psalm 7-15-13

"The Lord is my Shepherd"

who I will heed.

"I shall not want."

I shall not 'need'.

"He maketh me to lie down in green pastures."

He brings me peace.

I shall not want.

All burdens cease.

"He leadeth me beside the still waters."

For He calmed them.

I shall not want.

How loved I am.

"He restoreth my soul."

I now can see.

I shall not want

He graces me.

"He leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for His name's sake."

- straight and narrow.

I shall not want.

He lights shadows.

"Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil,"

I fear nothing.

I shall not want

for anything.

"For thou art with me,"

my Protector.

I shall not want.

I had before.

"Thy rod and thy staff, they comfort me,"

They soothe my soul.

I shall not want.

He's in control.

"Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of my enemies."

I shall not hate.

I shall not want.

My God is great.

"Thou anointest my head with oil, my cup runneth over,"

His blessings last.

I shall not want.

His love is vast.

"Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life;"

even in prison.

I shall not want

for Christ is risen.

"and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever."

I am in awe.

I shall not want.

Hallelujah! Hallelujah!

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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Psalm 23 King James Version (KJV)

1 The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.

2 He maketh me to lie down in green pastures:

he leadeth me beside the still waters.

3 He restoreth my soul:

he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake.

4 Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,

I will fear no evil: for thou art with me;

thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.

5 Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies:

thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over.

6 Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life:

and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever.

July 14, 2013

Who Am I? 7-14-13

One's a doctor, one's a nurse,

both are focused, both diverse.

They work hard for common good

and always did the best they could.

But who will listen to my cry?

Oh say, dear Jesus, who am I?

Now politics is quite a fight,

one is left-wing, one is right.

Deception knows each shifty smile

and bribing voters seems worthwhile.

But who will listen to my cry?

Oh say, dear Jesus, who am I?

One's in business, one is not

one's paid little, one a lot.

Now they have bills to pay, of course -

and money is a driving force.

But who will listen to my cry?

Oh say, dear Jesus, who am I?

One's a pastor, one's a priest -

one's out west and one's out east.

They're on TV with caring looks

while selling DVD's and books.

But who will listen to my cries?

Oh say, dear Jesus, who am I?

One is sick and one is broke

and one is mute when something's spoke.

Now these are me, myself and I.

"Please listen, Jesus, to my cry!

Oh, answer Jesus, if you please..."

He promptly said, "The least of these."

His words had flowed as if in rhyme,

for He had spoken one more time.

"Now when you cry but no one hears,

just pray to me. I'll dry your tears.

For you're the branch and I'm the vine,

you bear good fruit because you're mine."

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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John 15:5 (NASB)

"I am the vine, you are the branches;

he who abides in Me and I in him, he bears much fruit,

for apart from Me you can do nothing."

July 4, 2013

Greater Blizzards Blow 7-4-13

Great men, great men, will always be -

and have since long ago -

as God creates the blizzards

and settles all the snow.

---

Great men, great men, exalt yourselves.

You win, again, again.

You've purchased by the hour -

the lives of poorer men.

Great men, great men, indulge yourselves.

You've built your castles high!

Immerse yourselves in glory as

your lesser peasants cry.

Great men, great men, reward yourselves.

Ride in your limousines.

Vacation in your travels far

and greet both kings and queens.

Great men, great men, applaud yourselves

in all that you may do -

with parties and exquisite gifts

so we're impressed with you.

Great men, great men, do you deserve

the best life has to give?

Should all your servants pamper you?

Will all your rivals live?

Great men, you may extol yourselves

but Christ's blood shall not stop...

And all the money in the world

won't buy a single drop.

And all great men will be known then,

when every servant prays...

"Forgive them Father. They know not

the snow upon their graves."

---

So very quickly great men pass.

God's greater blizzards blow.

And where God sends the great man's soul,

eternity will know.

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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June 28, 2013

Dear IRS 6-28-13

Dear IRS:

It doesn't make sense

proving our innocence.

We're sorry for all of this fuss...

but how does it feel

pushed back on your heels -

like you've done to most all of us?

You can't get a handle

on criminal scandals.

The rules you break are your own.

Your head's in a fog.

You live 'high on the hog' -

while our children are chewing the bone.

Now who can control

all you arrogant souls?

You hide behind bulletproof glass.

You've wasted our money

and you think it's funny -

but this time you won't get a pass.

The truth you will shift

as you're 'pleading the fifth'.

Your actions stink worse than a sewer.

Your laughable lies

are now spreading like flies -

in a barnyard that's full of manure.

You trade each, your praises,

then give yourselves raises -

and now you're paid more than before!

You claim you are sorry

but sip on your chablis -

then ask for a billion bucks more!

Your image, you've wrecked.

You have lost our respect -

and if graded, you'd certainly fail.

We know you'll be whining

when you start resigning

and we throw your buttocks in jail.

If not behind bars

we will ship you to mars -

for your cesspool-ing policies stink.

Good morals are rarer -

the 'Fair Tax' is fairer -

and now you shall soon be extinct.

Sincerely,

The "Fair Tax"

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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June 27, 2013

As breezes blow us out in drove,
we utter, flutter through the grove.
But smile among God's treasure trove!
---
Lightning flashes plunder under
clouds as thunder comes asunder!
God's creation has me wonder...

The pounding showers seem to cower -
devouring this fragile flower.
God's creation, massive power!

And don't forget as sunsets hit -
more storm clouds threaten as of yet.
God's creation, sopping wet.

The darkness heightens, but thereafter
sunlight brightens morning after -
as God creates a child's laughter!

The bud, the rose, the bloom of it -
then growth again, should He permit.
God's creation - so exquisite!

And from it all, great waterfalls.
Still I crawl. My stature stalls -
as all of God's creation calls...

from two dead logs which laid across,
together nailed to form a cross.
Creation's gain brought Heaven's loss.

But garden rose of deep maroon
with monarch's flutter from cocoon -
sees virgin birth returning soon!

Oh, how all nature seems to shout,
"We tell you what it's all about!"
Creation lives - without a doubt!

Should I have known this all along?
Now tell me, "Where do I belong?"
Creation prays for Heaven's song!

And choreographed, they wave in wind -
two willows whisper standing twinned.
God's creation without end.

The nations' notions have accrued -
turned up-side-down, this world skewed.
Ever endeavor servitude.

Am I sincere and persevere
or rather simple breezes fear -
through year and year and year and year?

While every nation brings taxation -
God through faith, brings grace, salvation!
Praise Him! Sanctification!!
---
As breezes blow us out in drove,
we utter, flutter through the grove -
but smile among God's treasure trove!

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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June 25, 2013

Dad's Guitar 6-25-13

Oh, I still hear them from afar -

the strumming strings of dad's guitar.

I reminisce, my memory looms,

as I recall those Gospel tunes.

Respecting others was the rule

each week before our Sunday School

when all the children gathered 'round,

where love for God was always found.

The songs were simple, undisguised.

The children had them memorized.

With message certain, "Do not sin"

the many voices chimed right in.

The little children, guests unnamed,

all sang with voices unashamed.

They sang with all their hearts' desire

with love that raged as spreading fire.

Their simple passion met my ears

and turned emotions into tears.

Though sometimes dad would sing alone,

their smiling faces always shone.

So blessed we were to see the joy,

on every little girl and boy.

Approval came from pastor's nod

as every soul had praised our God.

I reminisce, my memory looms,

as I recall those Gospel tunes.

And I still hear them from afar -

the strumming strings of dad's guitar.

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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June 12, 2013

God's Garden Blooms! 6-12-13

My flower bed had been prepared...
With sacrificing toil -
I'd cultivated, fertilized
the rich, organic soil.
Surrounded by a picket fence,
(a short one painted white) -
it seemed to frame a picture that
was sure a pretty sight.

But absent, garden's bloom.

Though warmth came with the sunshine
and moisture with the rain -
and though I pulled out every weed,
my work was all in vain.
Now why were my vast working hours
I knew were loving deeds,
all proving to be futile -
without mere flower seeds?

Where was the garden's bloom?

"For God so loved the world, that
He gave His only Son..."
The time was past to plant the seed
to see a job well-done.
So flawless is my garden now
with seeds set in the ground -
but faith must wait for grace to touch
the heart until He's found.

Await the gardens bloom...

Then when I least expect results
I see some little sprouts -
that grow from living water as
mere souls begin to shout.
Nights' dark and patient hours end.
The day brings joyous light.
The days have grown His blessings vast -
with souls so vibrant, bright!

Now watch God's garden bloom!

From children, teens and fathers,
from grandma's faithful heart -
from every corner of the earth
watch great compassion start!
For every blooming flower proves
that grace and faith survive,
that Jesus lives within our hearts -
that God is still alive!

And oh, my soul blooms!

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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June 7, 2013

One Final Tear 6-7-13

The heart determines how they flow -

and why they come so fast -

as tears pour down in numbers from

the first to very last.

Long tears were streaming down my face -

for something bad occurred.

And though I focused on my pain -

a distant cry I heard.

Since Eden's lovely garden time,

no tear could so convey,

a love that reached all pinnacles,

as one from Jesus' day.

I sit and ponder now and then

behind my tears until -

I must accept that God knows best -

and understands me still.

Yes, Jesus knows my sorrows and -

He knows my every fear.

He knows my every burden and -

He knows my every tear.

I wonder then, of all the tears,

which rids me of my grief?

And which tear holds the answer to

my comfort, peace, relief?

Before His death, His tears were great.

He loved me through those nails...

And then one final tear was shed -

for Jesus never fails.

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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May 22, 2013

Oh, Tiny Bud 5-22-13

Oh, tiny bud here on this branch
and many more that have no chance
in this dark world that no one sees -
the lost and silent "least of these".

They're covered up by others full,
with blooming blossoms, beautiful -
that dance so freely in the wind -
but oh, they do not know they've sinned.

The 'winners' flaunt their daily lives
when pride's indulging self arrives -
ignoring young and helpless, those
with hungry gut and dirty clothes.

While all those 'winners' seem to choose
different blossoms, different hues -
the traffic, loud, goes flying by.
...Seems no one cares which makes me cry.

But time will tell on judgement day
when all their wealth will have no say.
Still, God allows both rain and mud
and nourishes this tiny bud.

Oh, tiny bud here on this branch
and many more that have no chance
in this dark world that no one sees -
the lost and silent "least of these".

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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May 13, 2013

In Melodies 5-13-13

As seagulls soar above the seas -

as busy as the honey bees -

and free of want, of any need,

light fingers float on ivory keys.

My arms reach out and grope so much

to sounds my soul seems deemed to clutch.

The music makes my soul sing out.

How eloquent- how soft the touch.

The melody I hear again.

My cheeks are soaked down to my chin -

I listen more- a hundred times!

How can I store them all within?

If I could mute out all the 'norm'

with notes so delicately warm -

so we, God's face, in them could see -

oh how, if I could so perform...

And yet the keys were touched so crisp,

that even sounds from roses lisp

had scattered petals through the sky,

that danced both to and fro in wisp.

Descending tenderly they near

and float emotions on my ear -

in melodies with eloquence -

that softly fade- then disappear...

The missing notes, God does forgive.
Instead of taking, I should give -

in love, as Jesus gave to me.
My life, like music, I must live.

(inspired by the musical talent of Mark Greer)

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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May 12, 2013

World Without 5-12-13

If world had no sunshine

and world had no rain,

if world had no flowers

and world saw no gain -

then many, my tears

if I pondered awhile,

to think of God's world

without mama's warm smile.

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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May 5, 2013

Over The Crest 5-5-13

Whew! I finally made it to the shore. My boat- a mangled mess.

I prayed a "Thank You!" to my God as God can always bless.

I dropped on shore exhausted so that I could catch my breath.

and thankful, was, that I escaped a close and certain death!

The storm clouds hovered up above. They seemed to follow me -

yet now I'll be among my own and very happy be.

I rested some and then stood up on firm and solid ground.

There was a steep and rugged hill but first, I looked around.

I fought that ocean mightily- then shook my angry fist.

I scoffed at those huge laughing waves- as I could not resist.

No longer, rations, I would need now not a bit depraved.

On solid ground, I threw them out- because my life was saved!

I yelled, "You'll never beat me! Not even at high tide!

Take this... and this... and this!" I said and threw my gear aside.

Then quietly a wave had came and carried it all out -

but I was safely on the shore. With that, there was no doubt.

So then I started climbing up the steep and rugged hill.

Though it was tough, I challenged it with persevering will.

I did not want to hear again- those angry waves today.

Each step I took put space between and furthered me away.

And finally, I neared the top. I sat to rest a bit.

I surveyed my accomplishments. I won, I must admit.

I think that God looks down on me and sees my work and smiles.

I think that's why He knows that I can handle all my trials.

And then I pulled myself on up a little to the west -

but oh, my eyes grew bigger as I peered over the crest.

The moral of this story is: Don't be too proud because -

it humbled me to see this sight. I, on an island, was.

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

Maybe the 'Garden of Eden' wasn't so bad after all...

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Proverbs 16:18 (KJV)

18 Pride goeth before destruction, and an haughty spirit before a fall.

April 30, 2013

It Is True 4-30-13

His clock set on the mantle.

The chime had faded nigh.
The sound had died without a tear.

I did not wonder why...

Not once had I heard father say,
"My daughter, I love you."

I guess I'd always wondered.
Did he? Was it true?

---

I saw a paper on his desk. A quill, upon it, laid.

The paper held some words in ink that soon came to my aid.

I sat upon his wooden chair that saw some better years.

And when I read the words he wrote, I burst out into tears.

He seemed to thrive at this old desk. He seemed to like it so.

He seemed to want to help the sick - and others feeling low.

There comes a time when words must end and pen must be set down.

There comes a time when body dies - each verb, each subject, noun.

His hand had dropped that feathered pen. His inkwell tipped and dried.

It seems he wrote his final thoughts on this before he died.

His strength had left his body. Life's clock had taken toll.

When all his words had been used up, the last few left his soul...

BUT JOY survives the darkest night when Jesus lights the dawn!

And though the greatest poet fades, his words are never gone.

They're written for the ages. They're never obsolete.

They're just as true as they were then - and lovingly complete.

There comes a time when someone else must take the feathered quill -

the quill that wrote so many words - and these that I hold still.

His hand had shaken violently where smears of ink had dried -

and this now pulls tears down my cheeks the day after he died.

I stared again at his last words, though splattered so with ink -

and read each word quite carefully - then paused a bit to think.

Expressed, he did, his final thoughts on paper I now cleave -

because he spilled his life on it. And so I do believe.

---

His clock set on the mantle.

The chime had faded nigh.

My joyful tears were flowing now.

His words the reason why:

"I never heard my daughter say,
'Father, I love you.'

But you, my dear, I've always loved.
Believe it. It is true."

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

Never fail to say, "I love you." and mean it.

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April 25, 2013