Wish the Fish 03 (contentment) 3-5-15

ONCE upon a splashing time

a little fish wished he could rhyme.

But 'Wish the Fish' lived in the sea

and brought so much calamity.

---

Wish wasn't mean and wasn't bad -

but wanted things that others' had.

So Wish the Fish was not content

but had no money.  Not one cent.

And to his mother, he would fuss.

His friend's things made him envious.

Content, he wasn't, (without toys).

He longed to be "one of the boys"

Now his best friend was 'Big Mouth Bass'

He bragged a lot and he was crass.

And Wish the Fish was very sad

when he saw what his best friend had.

So then Wish asked of his best friend,

"Could you, to me, some money lend?"

How Wish's eyes got larger when

his friend pulled out a big green 'ten'.

But after getting his new game,

our Wish the Fish was not the same.

He told his mom it was routine

to stare at a computer screen.

Mom said one day, "Go pay it back

or I'll unplug the power pack."

But after working many times,

Wish only made a mere two dimes.

"Nine dollars, eighty cents to go."

Wish learned a lesson most don't know -
that money, on trees, doesn't grow.

It's wrong to borrow lots of dough.

Our 'wants' will always make demand.

Wish learned that very lesson and

confessed he did, then repented,

paid it back, became contented.

---

The moral of this poem's great,

if this whole world would love, not hate

contentment!

©2015 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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Wish the Fish (introduced in story 01)
Big Mouth Bass (introduced in story 03)

Wish the Fish 02 (chores) 2-27-15

ONCE upon a splashing time

a little fish wished he could rhyme.

But 'Wish the Fish' lived in the sea

and brought so much calamity.

---

One day mom said, "Now do your chores.

I've done all mine.  Now you do yours.

Go make your bed, then get your broom

and sweep the seashells from your room."

Well, this made Wish the Fish quite sad.

He wondered if his friends all had.

And then he thought, "Hmm, could I take

a little swim, a little break?"

So careful not to stir the sand,

Wish swam right out his window and

off to his friend's, he took a look,

then saw a juicy worm on hook...

It dangled down in front of him.

It seemed so small and awfully slim.

But Wish was hungry.  He would eat

and took a bite which was so sweet...

But oh, the yank that pulled him out!

The hook had hurt!  Wish tried to shout.

"What happened here?" himself, he asked.

It all had happened very fast.

Wish flopped around there on the sand

before he knew what happened and

his gills were hurting from the air.

Wish flopped some more.  Did no one care?

And there he lay to his dismay.

Wish wished he hadn't swam away.

Oh, how he wished he had obeyed -

so on the sand, at last, he prayed...

Now Wish the Fish, could not be found.

His mom had searched and searched.  She frowned.

She was perplexed.  She was afraid.

And then, at last, she also prayed...

Oh, Wish the Fish would soon be dead

if hadn't been for this instead:

He heard a lower bass voice call,

"Just throw it back!  It's way too small!"

No longer bound by ugly sin,

our Wish the Fish could swim again!

He swam straight home - despite so weak -

hugged tight his mom and kissed her cheek.

---

The moral of this poem's great,

if this whole world would love, not hate

their chores!

©2015 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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Wish the Fish (introduced in story 01)

Wish the Fish 01 (mom's advice) 2-26-15

ONCE upon a splashing time

a little fish wished he could rhyme.

But 'Wish the Fish' lived in the sea

and brought so much calamity.

---

Now Wish was just a little fish,

Blue, red, yellow - oh, and greenish.

He loved his mom 'cause she was nice

but sometimes gave too much advice.

Wish thought, so crude, the meals she stewed.

They tasted more like people food.

But mom said, "Eat.  Eat ev'ry bean."

Just eat until your plate is clean."

Now mom's advice to clean his plate

was wrong, Wish thought.  He seldom ate.

(He'd take his fork, scrape off her cookin' -

then hid it when she wasn't lookin').

So no, Wish didn't eat too much

until his hunger pangs were such

he gobbled down his candy bars

and emptied all mom's cookie jars.

The next day, ohhh, the stomach ache!

And then mom offered cream and cake.

Wish turned her down, not once, but twice

and wished he'd taken her advice.

---

The moral of this poem's great,

if this whole world would love, not hate:

mom's advice!

©2015 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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God's Sparrow 2-23-15

My mother? I miss her. You don't know how much

with hugs, warm and loving, with her gentle touch.

And father, not perfect, had sure done his best.

Together, in Heaven, they in His arms rest.

---

Interpreting thoughts that were mine with my weeping,

on wee branch up high, a young sparrow was keeping.

With sharp and loud chirping, I felt ever small.

It ripped me to pieces when I heard it all.

Then, when it had finished, it flew out of sight -

and it left a message, quite brutal, but right -

when I heard, "You're fake - a great imitator,

forgiven by God, your Maker, Creator."

My eyes had welled up with tears of repentance -

with close fam'ly ties and those times of remembrance.

Though precious, the mem'ries I wouldn't exchange,

those days were but hist'ry that I couldn't change.

It sure got me thinking. Oh, how could it be,

I thought not of others - but only of me?

Those years have all passed and are not coming back.

They shook up my heart like a massive attack.

I now see the world and sparrow in tree -

and even myself now so dif-fer-ent-ly.

Priorities changed now that I've been set straight

by that little, lone sparrow I started to hate.

But I thank God's sparrow that perched in the tree,

which brutally, honestly uncovered me -

exposing my selfishness, failures and sin.

Repentant, forgiven, I'll see them again.

©2015 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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Tulips and Roses 2-19-15

Right under our noses

are tulips and roses.

There's no place that I'd rather be.

And if you come hither

you'll find they won't wither

for God surely loves you and me.

A rainbow of colors

are splattered on flowers

that all of creation can see.

And when they're a-blooming,

exquisite perfuming

enhances His paintings for me.

The world won't believe Him,

far out on their tree limb.

Opinions are having their say.

They make me so dizzy

because they're so busy

and can't find eternity's way.

I know you would rather

join with me and gather

up armfuls of rainbow's bouquets -

and inside His painting

enjoy His creating

the rest of eternity's days.

So join me and jump in

to painting, born again,

where flowering landscapes are true.

Here living with respect

is Heavenly perfect

in vibrant and colorful hue.

Right under our noses

are tulips and roses.

There's no place that I'd rather be.

And if you come hither

you'll find they won't wither

for God really loves you and me,

for God really loves you and me.

©2015 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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I Corinthians 13:13 (NASB)

"...but the greatest of these is love."

As Darkness Falls 2-16-15

The sun's at rest

upon the west -

as lighted pathway fades.

Today I'm lost, so what's the cost for all my sick charades?

The bottom line:

Decisions?  Mine,

though future couldn't see.

I ventured off the straight and narrow pathway meant for me.

I can''t embark.

It's awful dark.

Time spurns to take me back.

Oh, how had I been led astray by winding pathways black?

Some say that no

one's perfect so,

"it doesn't matter much".

But that's not what the Savior said with cross and thorns and such.

He suffered there

in anguish where

His love could cover men -

and faithfully had paid my debt upon that cross of sin.

On grieving face

was matchless grace

so I could be set free -

but stubbornly I trod my long and winding path... for me.

Now here I stand

as owls land.

Life skates along its way.

I'm lonely, very lonely here a-midst my final day.

So what's the cost?
Today, I'm lost.

I've had so many fears.

The darkness falls.  'Forever' calls as pathway disappears.

©2015 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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Matthew 24: 10-13 (NASB)
10 At that time many will fall away and will betray one another and hate one another.
11 Many false prophets will arise and will mislead many.
12 Because lawlessness is increased, most people’s love will grow cold.
13 But the one who endures to the end, he will be saved.

Intentionally Left Blank 2-13-15

I look through all my papers.

I search but cannot find.

Exploring notes and all my files,

I hunt my absent mind.

But I can't find them anywhere.

I seek throughout the day.

I cannot sleep as stars come out

Have I something to say?

I'd like to write of God above
and all His majesty.
Unless I take the time to pray,
those words will never be.

But I can't find the words to use.

Thoughts pierce me like a knife.

My life could be much better if

pure words rhymed with my life.

Escapes me, too, the letters

that float away on streams,

winding through the rapids fast,

that disappear with dreams.

Oh, how can rhyming phrases flow

and sentences galore -

when I can't find mere letters here?

My phrases come no more.

If only I could find them...

the words, so you could know 'em,

then I could write the stanzas down

in one breathtaking poem.

Instead, I search inside myself.

With absent prayers, my words -

just float away on rivers or

are carried off with birds...

So here I sit with naught to say,

so let me just be frank.

Who'd care to read another line?

(intentionally left blank)

©2015 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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Find the Butterfly (song lyrics) 2-1-15

I wanted to be different,
I wanted to be free,
I wanted something special but
I simply couldn't see.
For I was blind to peace of mind -
through clouds it'd never be.
How could I find the butterfly in me?
How could I find the butterfly in me?

On beach, so sad, I lonely was.
A large, dark storm cloud said,
"Your shore is very empty and
your soul is all but dead."
The waves crashed and - soaked in the sand
but truth soaked not in head,
and blackness washed my beauty out instead,
and blackness washed my beauty out instead.

My footprints weren't forever and
they didn't last long-term.
I sought to be so happy but
the sand just wasn't firm.
The hint I saw had dropped my jaw
but sun could not confirm.
My life was like a lowly, ugly worm.
My life was like a lowly, ugly worm.

I wanted to be happy and
be satisfied by noon.
I wanted to be joyous too
and laugh that afternoon.
I tried to fly high in the sky,
like colorful balloon -
and not confined to my dark, dead cocoon,
and not confined to my dark, dead cocoon.

Reality descended then
down to a weathered dock.
It's usefulness was gone and all -
its boards were stumb'ling blocks.
I couldn't halt nor could I fault
the waves upon heart's rock -
and time flew by with ticking of the clock,
and time flew by with ticking of the clock.

The angry sky had thundered then.
I heard the ocean's din.
I couldn't see creation or
the higher tide begin.
I searched my mind but couldn't find -
for nothing had sunk in -
while ocean's truth still splashed upon my sin,
while ocean's truth still splashed upon my sin.

Then lost and wand'ring aimlessly,
along some pine and birch,
my pride had died in front of an
abandoned country church.
I walked inside, but couldn't hide.
My soul was in the lurch -
but that had ended my long journey's search,
but that had ended my long journey's search.

My tears flowed as a river there.
I dropped down to my knees.
T'was then I saw some color like
the autumn's rainbow leaves.
My God above sent ocean's love,
His grace was as the seas -
and now this butterfly floats on the breeze,
and now this butterfly floats on the breeze.

If you confess that you're a worm,
repent in your cocoon,
then God has promised all His grace
and you'll become immune.
And by and by, your butterfly
will spread its wings and soon -
will glide on rainbow leaves to sunset's moon,
will glide on rainbow leaves to sunset's moon.

So if you find the butterfly
that's born again in you,
then you, my friend, have Jesus and
shall fly to Heaven too.
Agape love from God above
bares rainbow's brilliant hue -
and brings eternal joy to pull you through,
and brings eternal joy to pull you through.

©2015 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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1 John 1:9 (NASB)
If we confess our sins, He is faithful and righteous to forgive us our sins and
to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.

Acts 2:38 (NASB)
Peter said to them, “Repent, and each of you be baptized in the name of Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of your sins; and you will receive the gift of the Holy Spirit.

Souls 1-21-15

I watch a dozen leaves or so

out circling on the drive -

reminding me of people who

no longer are alive.

To be content, they'll money earn.

They'll dress the part and bow -

because they are unsatisfied

of where they are right now.

Though deep into the winter,

they seem, in breeze, so dizzy.

Swirling 'round in circles cold,

they all seem very busy.

They don't take time for other folks

or problems they might bear.

They cannot empathize with them.

They rarely ever care.

So here outside my humble room,

outside my window sill,

I see them blowing 'round and 'round

with great deceptive skill.

They idolize their happiness

and idolize each need.

They idolize each fantasy

and idolize their greed.

So colorful before they fell,

now brown and curled and dry,

they aren't yet buried 'neath the snow -

and only God knows why.

Although their minds are thinking,

although their bodies fed,

although their hearts are beating -

their souls?  Completely dead.

I watch a dozen leaves or so

out circling on the drive -

reminding me of people who

no longer are alive.

©2015 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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Slips Away 1-20-15

The pain, immense for quite awhile,

but it is worth that precious smile.

The nurses measure and they weigh.

But soon our mother slips away.

We choose our friends and choose our spouse,

we choose location and our house.

And while the children romp and play

a friend or fam'ly slips away.

The love of money's in our blood

as if it's some fantastic drug.

While some are hunters, some are prey,

another dollar slips away.

We stack more food upon our shelves.

Ignore all others, help ourselves.

From off the narrow road we stray,

another homeless slips away.

The rider smiles and so approves

downtrodden trails beneath the hooves

of horse that stopped to eat some hay.

Another stranger slips away.

The sky awash in brilliant hue

that we have grown accustomed to.

It pauses not to hasten day.

Another twilight slips away.

Of what importance is the goal?

It's only God who's in control.

For while the old man bows to pray,

another friendless slips away.

We think we have life figured out.

We give opinions, argue, shout -

but step back from that vast array

when all we held just slips away.

Yes,

they'll stand around my casket and

they'll talk about the 'Promised Land'.

But what will matter on that day

when my opinions slip away?

When dirt is piled on casket lid,

they'll lie about the good I did.

But God is Truth.  He'll have His say

when my own soul... slips away.

©2015 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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A Purpose 1-15-15

What eye would have a purpose -

if rainbows had no hue,

if sunsets had no colors,

if skies were void of blue?

What ear would have a purpose -

if lips, inaudible,

if harmony was absent sound,

if nature, all, was still?

What nose would have a purpose -

if flowers had no scent,

if perfumes had no fragrance,

if spring was no event?

What tongue would have a purpose -

if salt had ne'er a taste,

if thoughts were but a vapor,

if words just went to waste?

What mind would have a purpose -

if argumentative,

if self-absorbed in ignorance,

if truth was 'relative'?

What heart would have a purpose -

if love, it could not feel,

if it was hard as granite stone,

if it could never heal?

What life would have a purpose -

without salvation's tree,

without the birth of Jesus Christ,

without the Trinity?

What soul would have a purpose -

if grace had not been free,

if faithfulness had not been lived,

if saved, we couldn't be?

©2015 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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Poet Friends 1-7-15

They write soft words with loyal pens

about God's love that far transcends

our drear, dark worlds of futile ends.

So thankful I, for poet friends.

Though Bibles have at times been banned,

we've come to search and understand

that narrow pathway God has planned

which leads us to the Promised Land.

For each of us who are forgiv'n

and faithfully are ever liv'n,

a unique journey God has giv'n

from home on earth to home in Heav'n.

It's true, so let each poem gird

creation's rainbow, rose and bird

and other things that run in herd

with Heaven's rhyme, with Heaven's word.

Away from earth's distracting din,

in Heav'n we'll read these words again,

so write some poems.  Now begin.

Make readers smile with widest grin.

Sometimes we laugh, sometimes we smile,

sometimes the words, we can't compile -

and though we cry through earthly trial -

our God shines through.  It's all worthwhile.

From earthquake to the mourning dove,

God's great creation speaks thereof,

so I give thanks to God above

for poet friends and poets' love.

Thank you!

©2015 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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Coexist? 1-3-15

Took root, a little baby vine

had grown from tiny seed -

but it was insignificant,

so meaningless indeed.

It drew all our attention to

its cute, industrious scene -

and it seemed very harmless here

in suited leaves of green.

It hugged a tree so gracefully.

We thought we understood.

We thought it just a compromise.

We thought it all so good.

But was it we were taken in

to 'ends' we thought would be -

through 'means' by which it made its mark

upon one healthy tree?

That tree had given all it could.

"I welcomed you," it said.

Yet that one vine continued up,

consuming tree... 'til dead.

Because of its misfortune here,

our hill became abuzz.

Persuasive and invasive and

persistent that vine was.

But care?  Oh, no.  Us bothered?  Not!

For we could never fall.

We each had thought us healthier

and stronger than them all.

Well, one by one our trees did fall.

The vines grew larger still.

They grew the way they wanted to

while thieving our good will.

I should have stopped that little vine

that squeezed a bit too tight.

It's hug was a deceptive one

that never seemed quite right.

We all had thought that we were safe,

but we were taken in.

Our hill of trees was killed off by

just one deceptive sin.

No, sometimes we can't "coexist"

when others want their say,

when others prove gross disrespect,

when they demand their way.

From cults to sick be-headings and

abortions, right-to-die,

have we forgotten, God is Love?

The rest is all a lie!

We cannot coexist with sin.

God's truth and light we need.

If Jesus lives within our hearts,

He kills that sinful seed.

We forest trees majestically

had stood atop that hill.

If only we'd been prudent and

been faithful to His will...

One Nation under God we were -

but we had thought it fine,

so we allowed a monster here

through cute and tiny vine.

©2015 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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Matthew 7:15 (KJV)

"Beware of false prophets, which come to you in sheep's clothing,

but inwardly they are ravening wolves."

Heaven Bound 12-29-14

In one quick flash, I hear a splash,

The trouble some get in!

They scream and shout and then yell out,

"Please help me from this sin!"

The selfishness of those God blessed!

May lightning strike them down!

They misbehave.  Let Jesus save -

or let them sink and drown.

Life guard, to be, is hard you see,

and I'm a nervous wreck.

To help someone?  I'd rather run

than risk my precious neck.

I disappear in church right here

with friends, safely on shore -

and say on cue, "I'll pray for you"

then keep track of the score.

It really stinks when someone thinks

the obligation's mine.

Though sin assault, it is their fault!

And that's the bottom line!

Am selfish, I, if I don't try?

I'm just one lone observer.

I have my place.  I have my grace.

I have my 'life preserver'.

By now you've guessed that I've been blessed 

and Heaven-bound indeed!

So don't be blue.  They'll rescue you

and other folks in need.

Who cares 'bout sin - and things within

that dark and angry sea?

Why should I care who's thrown in there?

(unless, of course, it's me).

©2014 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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Through His Love 12-28-14

I can't speak true of single hue

nor can I write hereof -

for there's a bright and vivid white

that glistens through His love.

---

There's no more green, but view's serene -

with frost on valley vast.

Through winter hills, my God fulfills

with blessings unsurpassed.

Yet, so hungry, some love money.

Satan always lurks.

And God, so great, they can't relate

to all His awesome works.

Each frosted plant, God has enhanced

and all should understand -

we're not to cease His Christmas peace,

in this, His wonderland.

The shepherds came.  They learned his name.

And Jesus was that boy.

Though light was dim, they stayed with Him

and all were filled with joy.

Below that star, directed far,

three wise men bearing gifts -

with gold and myrrh.  In awe they were,

for spirit, Jesus lifts.

Are we too old?  Are we too cold -

to see His loving face?

Are we too blind?  Is Christ too kind -

that we can't know His grace?

Already sent if we repent.

Eternity is near!

Still offers choice, that still, small voice,

upon the humble ear.

Though few can hear, it does endear.

It's free and there's no cost.

Untouchable, yet visible,

His sunlight off the frost.

His faith is sure and sparkling pure

on landscape so endowed.

He floods His grace upon this place.

Emotion screams out loud.

---

I can't speak true of single hue

nor can I write hereof -

for there's a bright and vivid white

that glistens through His love.

©2014 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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Stars, Friends & Blessings 12-22-14

The midnight stars were very bright.

"But many small" said I,
"and are not fit to take up space
in God's majestic sky."

Hence, I removed them.  But some more

were smaller than the rest.

So I disposed of those as well -

a little bit obsessed.

Then after my accomplishments,

I looked at all God had.

But now the sky was very dark -

my good intentions bad.

---

My friends were like the midnight sky,

"But many small" said I;

so small, so insignificant.

I snatched them from the sky.

I threw out all the "lesser ones",

believe me, I can tell.

And all those friends of little use?

I threw them out as well.

Had only they'd been there for me.

It really was a shame.

But then upon completion of -

so lonely, I became.

---

My blessings?  There were many,

"But many small" said I -

so many insignificant

that I plucked from the sky.

Those things, some think are blessings,
I thought were nothing much -
I wanted more excitement and
a lot less of His touch.

Now here I am in dire straights.

Have I not been forgiven?

If only God had understood!

Oh, why did God not listen!?

---

A dark and lonely life I'd lived.

No blessings, friends or stars...
My life - oh, who had understood
my self-inflicted scars?

But Christ forgives!  So why my scars!?
I did not understand!
And why did Jesus not erase
the scars on His own hands?

I must forgive as Jesus did
to understand His sky,
to understand true friendships and
His blessings.  That is why.

©2014 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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Galatians 6:7 (NASB)
Do not be deceived, God is not mocked; for whatever a man sows, this he will also reap.

Virgin Pure 12-14-14

(from a woman's perspective for those hurt, abused and broken)

One time a horrid thing occurred, but I'll keep that unspoken -

except to tell you how I felt - so sad, depressed and broken.

---

There's evil all throughout this world that eyes may never see,

but we can feel results of sin - and that, I guarantee.

So many have endured the pain, the torture, wounds and strife -

but hidden is satanic stains that steal away the life.

No soap and water cleans up sin.  There's no 'work' we can do.

It's principalities we fight and faith will pull us through.

It took me years to realize that it's all in God's hand,

but let me tell my story first - so you may understand.

---

The fault was certainly not mine.  I tried to just pretend

that others understood my pain about what really happened.

But like a vault, that pain was locked down deep inside my head.

Those reoccurring nightmares came each time I went to bed.

My mind was haunted day and night.  Those nightmares?  They were true!

I bathed and showered.  Nothing worked!  ...t'was nothing I could do.

Oh, how I tried!  I used good soap, used all the soap I could,

but nothing washed away that sin.  It wasn't any good.

Was I so blind for remedy, that I just couldn't see -

the answer?  Then I realized, that it was not of me.

No, there was nothing I could do, but search and search and search,

but that's when I discovered Him.  The answer was in church.

God's house.  That's where He was.  God sent His only Son.

Dark, sinful nightmares went away when His love had begun.

Once nightmares kept me up all night.  I'd roll and turn and toss.

But then I thought, "Did Jesus sin when He was nailed to cross?"

Christ, like me, was innocent!  It wasn't my Lord's fault!

Though Satan locks those horrors in, God opens tomb and vault!

No tomb could ever hold Him there!  Sin can't imprison lives!

No vault can lock us up again when Jesus Christ arrives!

HIS LOVE has made me whole again and wasn't that my goal?

Yes, that my friends, brings me to tears.  He cleanses mind and soul.

The joy I have, now fills my heart.  The problem's not with skin.

He wiped away those horrors and He brought me peace within!

So everytime those thoughts come back - those things that are no more,

it's then that I remind myself that Christ wins every war.

Despicable, their ugly sin and blacker still, than coal,

but Christ gives peace of mind from sin. God cleansed my very soul.

No, baths and showers do not work and there's no other cure -

but Jesus, born of Mary, is.  He made me virgin pure.

©2014 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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There are many 'crisis centers' around the United States.

So seek help and support, but remember:

Only Jesus truly understands.

Seek Him.  Pray.  Heal.

Then serve Him!

Help others!

Be there

for them

and live again!

Jesus lives & Jesus saves!

Harold & Steve 12-11-14

Out hanging, two icicles born on an eve.

Now one was named Harold; the other one, Steve.

Well, Harold was jealous and you would be too

for Steve had an awesome, spectacular view.

But hanging 'round corner, ten shingles or so,

was poor, lonely Harold and wouldn't you know -

that Harold, if his, would have made different plans.

Instead he was stuck over two garbage cans.

The stench and the odor was too much to bear

while Steve was out front there enjoying fresh air.

Oh, fair? It was not and it made Harold mad,

so angry, despondent, depressed and so sad.

And wouldn't you know that Steve had grown quicker,

had grown so much stronger, bigger and thicker.

But Harold was just a wee bit of a thing -

not much to look at and not interesting.

You know, children grow up, but icicles down

and Harold grew lower with saddest of frown.

And that is why Steve had made fun of his friend.

His bullying never, seemed never to end.

He gloated that he was too solid to break.

He boasted that he could see sunsets, the lake.

And this had gone on through the long winter days

but Harold, one day changed his sad lonely ways.

He sang Christmas hymns of when Jesus was born;

continued it non-stop each ev'ning 'til morn.

So Steve, you might guess, was a bit envious.

Bewildered he was, that Harold was joyous.

Though droplets of water, off Harold, would splash

on top of that putrid and stinky old trash -

dear Harold accepted the life that God gave him -

no matter how boring or troubled or grim.

He knew that God's love was unprecedented

and that made him happy, joyous, contented.

Then one day, dear Harold, had heard a loud splat -

and he never heard from ol' Steve after that.

---

The moral to poem here simply increases -

each time you hear bullies are falling to pieces.

Someone please tell me if this life has mattered,

when our hopes are lost and our goals are shattered.

And Harold, you ask? What has happened to him?

Well, he was still singing an old gospel hymn,

as angels had seen him and anxiously stated,

"All Heaven rejoice! He evaporated."

©2014 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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King Garland 12-4-14

Oh, once upon a selfish time

King Garland had his reign,

but he had planned an evil scheme

that no one could contain.

Before the holidays arrived

his men would decorate.

Besieged with colored lighting grand,

while subjects would await.

Bright lights were hung and garland strung

from pillars through the halls,

but never was there quite enough

for old King Garland's walls.

He called his servants, gave to them

decree that he had signed,

to confiscate all garland 'round -

each piece that they could find.

So all his men went out that day

collecting all they could.

They entered every store and home

and left their walls bare wood.

They brought back all their garland, lights

and even decorations -

in hopes that they'd impress the king,

(win his admiration).

Well, mothers wept and children cried.

Oh, what were they to do?

Have Christmas without colored lights?

Their deep frustrations grew.

They came from every shop and home -

from even desert sand,

to protest theft of Christmastime

from all across their land.

They gathered at the castle walls.

The protesters would scream.

The king had fin'lly heard enough

and thought them most extreme.

Concocted, he, pathetic lies -

some great deceptive lines...

He'd either calm the crowd a bit,

or threaten them with fines.

But on his way to balcony,

we witnessed quite a sight.

At top of stairs, his crown got snagged

on just one garland's light.

He quickly grasped his priceless crown

so it would not fall off...

(the queen had started laughing but

she hid it with a cough).

From that point on it went downhill.

On garland, he had stumbled.

And then the laughter opened up

when we saw how he tumbled...

...bouncing down the stairway toward

the great, grand balcony

where ev'ryone was gathered 'round,

where ev'ryone could see.

Well, how it happened, we're not sure

but crowd was quite aghast.

The king, himself, embarrassed.

It happened all so fast.

With garland tangled 'round his foot

the crowd let out a cheer -

for king was swinging up-side-down

below the chandelier!

T'was then the king decided that,

(because of his bad fall),

that ev'ry single Christmas should

be lived by one and all.

So handed back, was ev'ry piece

of garland that he stole.

The people had their Christmas back -

while king had gotten coal.

The moral of this poem?

Do not be some pathetic fool

who let's greed have its way.

You cannot steal the Spirit from

the folk on Christmas day.

Treat others, not as subjects, but

respect them all instead.

If selfish, ever, you become,

may blood rush to your head.

©2014 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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Precious Memories 12-2-14

As I sit in my rocker,

here looking at our tree,

the Christmas lights and ornaments

are shining back on me.

Oh those precious mem'ries

of places long ago.

Oh, those precious mem'ries,

a-sledding in the snow!

We wiggled as we giggled and

our faces were aglow!

Oh those precious mem'ries -

a-bouncing down we'd go!

As I sit in my rocker

just looking at your face,

your eyes reflect the sparkling

of flames in fireplace.

Oh, those precious mem'ries.

of trudging up the hill.

Oh, those precious mem'ries.

We sledded down until -

you tipped the sled right over and

it gave us both a thrill!

Oh, those precious mem'ries.

That snow gave us a chill.

As I sit in my rocker.

and you sit there in yours,

I realize we're holding hands

as faithfulness endures.

Oh, those precious mem'ries.

Again, we'd get a shove.

Oh, those precious mem'ries.

Remember your lost glove?

Remember way atop the hill

that seemed so far above?

Oh, those precious mem'ries -

the day we fell in love.

As we sit in our rockers,

and you begin to snore -

I realize that every day

I love you more and more.

Oh, those precious mem'ries.

Oh, those precious mem'ries..

Oh, those precious mem'ries...

©2014 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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