A Lonely Poem 2-3-17

THERE ARE so many others that can start a loud stampede

of people running after them so that they all can read

the script of rhymes that fascinate their scrutinizing minds

to entertain emotions - emotions of all kinds.

But I am just a lonely poem buried here inside

a dusty book unsuited and unable to provide

a morsel of excitement to those readers I can't see.

They're browsing here, undoubtedly, on either side of me.

My words are like a dried up rose with bent and broken stem -

and that's why I'm a lonely poem, unlike the rest of them.

It's dark inside this dusty book.  Forever, I will stay -

yet wonder, will I ever see the sunny light of day?

Rejected, I'm compelled to cry, but that I can't condone,

because my ink would surely run and I'd still be alone.

So tears I hold.  I'm saddened so- and oh, I'd love to shout.

But I'll be stuck here up until this book I'm in's thrown out.

I prayed that you would find my words because God answers prayers.

He knows my good intentions and I know He always cares.

So when my prayers are answered and you read my story rhymes,

I pray that we can just be friends and have some good ol' times.

And though you will not see me smile, please know that I'll be glad.

and pray one day we'll find these times the best we've ever had.

But if, by chance, another poem's your fav'rite one instead,

I pray my words go with you when again I go unread.

©2017 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

-------

Lonely 1-21-17

Except for chirping bird or two

it's quiet in the park.

I hear my feet move through the grass

and soon it will be dark.

The air is calm and quiet here

and everything seems tame,

but world has turned me up-side-down

and nothing is the same.

Elusive is the rainbow's end.

My feet are much too slow.

And lost forever are the smiles

of friends so long ago.

My hands can't catch what finds my nose,
and empty they are still.

They cannot catch the fragrance of
an outdoor charcoal grille.

I cannot grasp the beautiful,
the clouds, so cottony.
And children who play much too loud
but such a sight to see.

My fingers cannot seem to touch
the treasures in my mind.
It seems they're much too feeble now
to touch what once had rhymed.

My arms are weak and cannot wrap

around the ocean's roar,

and lost are thoughtful special hugs.

My children are no more.

My legs can't seem to carry me.
My body's on the brink.
But my mind's like the sharpest tack -
and I can surely think.

Now if you'd listen for a bit,

I'd love so much to share,
but loneliness shares memory
of which you're unaware.

Because you like to socialize,

you laugh your days away -

and that way you don't have to live

a single lonely day.

I wonder if you only care

about your happenings -

the drama you create each day

and other petty things.

Forgive me for my selfishness,

I should have thought things through.

I'm sorry that I speak of that

instead of only you.

Except for chirping bird or two

it's lonely in the park.

I hear my feet move through the grass

and soon it will be dark.

©2017 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

-------

Ball Of Fuzz 1-1-17

I stared in vain through window pane

as I was on my own.
And lonely I, would sometimes cry
as I sat here alone.

The wind was wild and snow had piled
up high on window sill.
Yet I was warm despite the storm,
despite infrequent chill.

My eyes in blur, saw something stir.

I raced outside to see.

It was a sight.  I held it tight

and said, "You're safe with me."

So cold she was.  I know because

she shivered for an hour.

Sad eyes were blue and hungry too.

She drank, though milk was sour.

Then trusting she, laid down on me -

curled tightly in my lap.

So soft her fur and quiet purr.

She took a prolonged nap.

As seasons came, she was the same -
so tame, so loving, swell.
And so it was, I know because
my mem-ry serves me well.

She was a friend right to the end
and trusting as could be.

Though snow had blown, the sun once shone

on ball of fuzz and me.

I stare in vain through window pane.

Again, I'm on my own.
And lonely I, will sometimes cry
as I sit here alone.

©2017 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

-------

Giving Is Joy 12-10-16

Putting on hat.  Yanking on boots.

Pulling on gloves.  Basket of fruits.

Opening door.  Holding on tight.

Wind hits my face.  Everything's white..

Weather is bad.  Comforts forgo.

Making my way.  Footprints in snow.

Taking short steps.  Carefully now.

Slipped on some ice.  I'm not sure how.

Old narrow road.  Old man like me.

Walking along.  Something to see.

Tall leafless trees.  Stretching above.

Creator's art.  Painted with love.

Deep heavy snow.  Bushes weighed down.

Bright colored lights.  Almost sundown.

Cold seizes breath.  Fingers are numb.

Now getting close.  Music has come.

Christmas music.  Melodies sweet.

Memory's peace.  Always complete.

Up a few steps.  Knock on the door.

Greeted with smile.  Warm wooden floor.

Welcomed inside.  Rosy red face.

'O Holy Night'.  Snug fireplace.

More Christmas songs.  Humble abode.

Gift of fresh fruit.  Nothing is owed.

Kindness is sweet.  "Thank you's" are said.

Then back at home.  Ready for bed.

Said I, a prayer.  "Making new friend.

Giving is joy.  True dividend."

©2016 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

-------

I'm Ready, You Bet! 12-8-16

I was with Jesus when He healed the ear.

It's then that I found that I hadn't a fear.

Jesus asked, Will you follow me now?

Are you ready to pay your debt?"

But I said- with a drop of sweat on my brow,

"I'm sorry, but I'm not quite ready yet."

I was with Jesus when He was arrested.

It's then I found out that I had been tested.

Jesus asked, Will you follow me now?

Are you ready to pay your debt?"

But I said- with a drop of sweat on my brow,

"I'm sorry, but I'm not quite ready yet."

I was with Jesus when He had been judged.

It's then, by Him, I felt I'd been nudged.

Jesus asked, Will you follow me now?

Are you ready to pay your debt?"

But I said- with a drop of sweat on my brow,

"I'm sorry, but I'm not quite ready yet."

I was with Jesus when He had been whipped.

It's then I found out that I had been skipped.

Jesus asked, Will you follow me now?

Are you ready to pay your debt?"

But I said- with a drop of sweat on my brow,

"I'm sorry, but I'm not quite ready yet."

I was with Jesus when they took all He had.

It's then that I found out that He wasn't bad.

Jesus asked, Will you follow me now?

Are you ready to pay your debt?"

But I said- with a drop of sweat on my brow,

"I'm sorry, but I'm not quite ready yet."

I was with Jesus when they nailed Him tight -

It made me just sick just to see such a sight.

Jesus asked, Will you follow me now?

Are you ready to pay your debt?"

But I said- with a drop of sweat on my brow,

"I'm sorry, but I'm not quite ready yet."

I was with Jesus when He called out to God.

It's then I felt that this all seemed quite odd.

Jesus asked, Will you follow me now?

Are you ready to pay your debt?"

But I said- with a drop of sweat on my brow,

"I'm sorry, but I'm not quite ready yet."

I was with Jesus when He was sealed in the tomb.

I felt very guilty, surrounded by gloom.

A voice echoed, "Will you follow me now?

Are you ready to pay your debt?"

But I said- with a drop of sweat on my brow,

"I'm sorry, but I'm not quite ready yet."

I was with Jesus when He rose from the dead.

It's then I felt better, much better instead.

Jesus asked, Will you follow me now?

Are you ready to pay your debt?"

And I said, while wiping the sweat from my brow,

"Oh yes I am ready!  I'm ready, you bet!"

But He said, "Don't bother.  I have in your place."

It's then I learned love and infinite grace.

©2016 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

-------

Cabin Of Logs 12-03-16

Myakka River State Park, FL (Cabin 4)

So far, far away from the bright city lights

down a dusty and old gravel road -

was a quaint little cabin built of full logs.

where nary a rafter was bowed.

So sturdy and stately it stood among trees.

It's woodwork was sawn and rough-cut.

The spring on the screen door resisted my pull.
I stepped in and door had slammed shut.

It seemed to be saying, "I don't want you here"
protesting that I had stepped in.
But I hadn't listened to what it had said,
consumed by the cabin within.

Such workmanship done by archaic tools

was special and second to none.

Amazed, I imagined a pile of logs,

then stacking them all one by one.

Outside I heard chirping from one nearby marsh.

The palms seemed to tower too high.

The trails went on for mile after mile

while groups of great egret walked by.

From grasses quite tall to warm river banks,

on white sands or next to a tree,

the gators would thankfully come and then go

and have little int'rest in me.

As days would wind down the chill would set in.

I'd gather up good burning wood.

So many old thoughts would go through my head

that only my God understood.

A couple of hours before the sunrise,

made time for a long morning prayer.

The flames from the brick and stone fireplace

had warmed up the crisp, wintry air.

The orange dancing flames were having such fun
and seemed to not tire at all.
As radiant heat would rise from the hearth,
dark shadows would dance on the wall.

I stared out the panes of the old window glass.

The view was a sight to behold.

I treasure the pictures I burned in my mind

in thoughts much too hard to be told.

The days were so peaceful.  The nights black as coal.

Enjoyed I, each moment I had.

But then the day came when I had to leave

and yes, it had made my heart sad.

I packed up my clothes and I swept out the place.

My stomach was knotted somewhat.

The spring on the screen door resisted my push.
I stepped out and door had slammed shut.

It seemed to be saying that it changed its mind
and thought it quite rude that I leave.
But it didn't know that I'd rather stay there
and it'd never know that I grieve.

I drove that dusty and old gravel road

straight-way to the city of lights.

But heart was not with me.  I left it back there -

with the cabin of logs and the sights.

©2016 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

-------

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/

-------

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/

-------

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/

-------

Clouds Of Grace 10-29-16

The seconds seem to march on by

as I lay in my bed.

The still, dark room surrounds me as

life's chaos fills my head.

I sought God's great forgiveness here

and prayed His 'will' be done.

I sought His endless blessings too -

His each and every one.

Awakened in the dead of night

brings pain and misery.

Those pins and needles sting me like

a million honey bee.

There's something in my eyes that runs

right down my wrinkled cheeks.

The seconds turn to minutes and

then hours into weeks.

The weeks turn into months and years

as I lay on my bed.

I hear the ticking of the clock

as life hangs by a thread.

A thread that is so fragile and

holds every thought that comes -

and pounds into my painful ears

like noisy, marching drums.

I try to shut my eyes and sleep,

but through the pain and flack -

my tears still win the battle, though

I've tried to hold them back.

My head begins exploding with

anxiety attack,

but so as not to live regret

I yank my muscles back.

This horrid pain has hit me like

a ton or two of brick -

that brings more torture to my ears

with every single 'tick'.

I sought God's will through faithful hope

but must accept this quest -

that when my fragile thread does snap,

I find that God has blessed.

Not maybe how I thought He would -
because this world harms.
But when that fragile thread does snap -
I'll find I'm in His arms.

For Christ endured this torture too.

He knows just how I feel.

So faithfully He carries me

and brings my heart to heal.

He holds me up, takes tension off

that single fragile thread,

so I can float on clouds of grace

that quell my pain instead.

©2016 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

-------

In Your Image 10-22-16

You made me in Your image Lord,

but I broke through the mold.

I thought my way was better so

I didn't do as told.

I lived in curiosity

when I was just a child.

I grew up wanting everything,

was selfish and was wild.

I lived in all my foolishness
and put myself in bubble.

And when I drew my idols in -

it got me into trouble.

One rainy day my bubble burst

and so I sat depressed.

Drenching wet I swallowed pride

that should have been addressed.

If I could start all over Lord,

I'd listen and obey.

And that way I would not be in

the fix I am today.
You'd make me in Your image Lord.

I wouldn't break the mold.

I'd know your way was better and

I'd do as I was told.

©2016 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

-------

An Attitude Of Prayer 9-24-16

The sun was hot.  There was no breeze.

It seemed that nature died -

except annoying croaking frogs

that tore me up inside.

And then those pesky chirping birds

kept on and wouldn't quit!

The peace and quiet fell away.

I thought I'd have a fit.

Emotions begged for me to scream

but logic's chains were fixed.

It seemed that I was torn in two

as all the truths were mixed.

A duck was splashing water and the

crickets pierced my ears.

I even heard a car horn then

that brought me close to tears.

Enjoy the outdoors?  I could not.

The banks were on my heels!

And though I was not guilty, they

had voided my appeals.

My mind was racing to and fro.

I willed to run away -

where I could start a brand new life

where peaceful was the day.

Then wings of sev'ral hummingbirds

had winnowed that still air

which moved me ever closer to

an attitude of prayer.

They seemed to not be bothered by

the things that bothered me.

I once was blinded by this earth...

but now, at last, I'm free!

©2016 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

-------

Very Same Dreams 9-3-16

We fam'lies of leaves were hanging in trees.
Each fam'ly had dreams that were strange.
We all had our reasons for various seasons -

traditions that we wouldn't change.

Now none had predicted that we'd be conflicted

from each on our very own trees.

But roots had ambition to send us nutrition,

yet never a leaf could they please.

I also was one who was selfish with fun.

I knew it and God knew it too.

So loved He the world, a baby was curled,

in manger while chilly winds blew.

I was not above all the leaves of God's love.

No better was I than the rest.

So dropped. I to knees and prayed for all trees

and asked that all leaves would be blessed.

Yet root was the scholar, so it gave a holler

that not over it would they dwell.

The root, very tough, said he'd had enough -

and that's when the most of them fell.

Now when they sought Heaven they all were forgiven,

(at least that's what they had believed).

Yet oh, so enthralled, were the faithful God called -

but not those of them self-deceived.

Then one breezy day, winds tore us away.

We landed in faraway streams.

The next springtime rain it happened again,

when new leaves had very same dreams.

©2016 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

-------

Liberty 8-27-16

It's a slippery slope

on which there's no hope

from the peak of pure liberty.

And just one exception

brings great tribulation

that most of the masses can't see.

Just one politician

that's on twisted mission

can push us down slippery slope.

And not one Republican

or Democrat can

throw out a life-saving rope.

For once we are thrown

out there on our own

there's no one who cares- not a whit.

When they start the fights

to take away rights -

we'd better climb back and not quit.

©2016 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

-------

In God I Trust 8-20-16

I thank you Jesus, for my birth

and all this beauty on Your earth -

for me to see.

Oh thank you Jesus, for these eyes -

though tears run down my cheeks from cries -

in thanks to thee.

I thank you Jesus, for soft song

when all the children sing along -

angelic grace.

And thank you Jesus, for these ears

as music soothes, then disappears

all I embrace.

I thank you Jesus, for my age

that's numbered here on final page

I can't oppose.

I thank you Jesus, for each breath

that You've blessed me up to my death,
as Heaven knows.

I thank you Jesus, for my life -

though others' sins that brought me strife

was so unjust.

But thank you Jesus, I'm restored

through grace and peace within You Lord.

In God I trust.

©2016 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

-------

Just Like Them 8-13-16

I was a feather floating free

with all my friends and family.

I followed them.

I learned to fly.

I learned to lie

and blow around this empty sky -

...just like them.

In wind, I did a somersault -

was told that nothing was my fault.

I followed them.

Without a care,

I learned to swear

and then accepted any dare -

...just like them.

The wind had tossed me to and fro,

first left, then right you'd see me go.

I followed them.

I learned to think.

I learned to drink,

precariously on the brink -

...just like them.

The gusty wind had taken toll.

I found myself in deep, black hole.

I followed them.

Like feather in

the wayward wind,

but learned that day that I had sinned -

...just like them.

©2016 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

-------

From Humble Root 7-30-16

A green and fragile leaf, was she

and unimportant she would be.

She was depressed.

For she was small, not very big

attached so lightly to a twig -

so she was blessed.

A small and simple twig was he

which held the leaf that waved so free.

He too depressed.

He feared, with wind he'd be detached,

yet to a branch, he was attached -

so he was blessed.

A small, but stable branch was there

which seemed to bend but didn't care.

It too depressed.

Afraid of wind, its life was grim

and so unlike the larger limb -

yet it was blessed.

A large and stable limb it was,

but it, unhappy too because,

it was depressed.

It exercised.  It was a 'hunk'

but wasn't an enormous trunk -

yet it was blessed.

A giant of a trunk was it?

It had opinions so unfit.

It too depressed.

It stood unmoved with haughty face

there over root on its own space -

so it was blessed.

Now root was happy.  It could sing.

It fed and nourished everything -

up to the leaves.

And it was not presumptuous

when it supplied its sustenance

to all the 'least of these'.

That root was humble under sod

and faithful to creation's God -

and it would thrive.

But then wind timbered trunk and tree!

Oh, what had happened?  Could it be

the root's alive...?

...to grow another tree, no doubt.

From humble root, a humble sprout.

Do you now see?
Take care then where your faith is at
so you do not end up like that
ol' timbered tree.

©2016 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

-------

Study Notes for pastors & Bible Study groups:
The leaf, the twig, the branch, the limb and the trunk were not blessed because of what they were attached to - but rather because of the nourishment they received from the unseen root.  We are not blessed because of who or what (spouse, church, political party, elected officials, possessions, money) we are 'attached' to but rather we are blessed because of our Lord Jesus Christ and what He has done for us.  If our faith is in man or things, then one day we find ourselves on that ol' timbered tree.

ALL Children 7-23-16

Please help the little children Lord.

Bless each and ev'ry one.

Protect them from a world of hate,

from anger, sin and gun.

Resentment boils up from hell

and terrorizes earth

as wars break out like wildfires,

around another birth.

We clamor for position Lord,

we care for our own thirst.

We focus on our status, but

our blessings have been cursed.

You once had blessed America.
when we had trusted You.
But we have failed the "least of these"
and we all know it's true.

Please strip away our selfish pride

and fill us up with love -

and let us prove our charity

that we keep speaking of.

Why do we think that our kids are
much better than the rest?

ALL children are from You dear Lord -
the poor, the weak, oppressed.

Please help the little children Lord.

Bless each and ev'ry one.

Protect them from a world of hate,

from anger, sin and gun.

©2016 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

-------

Mom's Pumpkin Pie! 7-22-16

When I was just a little lad,

I came inside from play.

Aroma met my little nose

on many, many day.

Oh my my!

Mom's pumpkin pie!

I rushed right to the kitchen and

the oven I had spied.

but it- completely empty.

I didn't quite know why.

Oh my my!

Mom's pumpkin pie!

The table top was all cleared off.

The window sill was too.

My hunger pangs were 'killing' me.

Oh, what was I to do?

Oh my my!

Mom's pumpkin pie!

It wasn't in the oven and

the counter top was bare.

With refrigerator empty,

it wasn't anywhere!.

Oh my my!

Mom's pumpkin pie!

"Hey!  Where's my pumpkin pie?" I yelled!

But there was ne'er a sound.

I yelled again.  The echo waned.

There was no one around.

Oh my my!

Mom's pumpkin pie!

Could it be at the neighbor's house?

Would mama have gone there?

What if my pie was just for them?

Oh no, she wouldn't dare!

Oh my my!

Mom's pumpkin pie!

I ran off to the neighbor's house.

I pounded on the door.

And then when they had opened it,

my jaw dropped to the floor.

Oh my my!

Mom's pumpkin pie!

And there it was- on table top -

as plain as 'one' could see.

Would she have given it to them?

Oh no!  It couldn't be.

Oh my my!

Mom's pumpkin pie!

I must have given hint away.

They must have seen a clue.

They then invited me to sit

so I could have some too!

Oh my my!

Mom's pumpkin pie!

But where was mom and where was dad?

Did they go to the store?

No.  They were in the pumpkin patch

so I could have some more!

Oh my my!

Mom's pumpkin pie!

©2016 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

-------

Treasure 7-12-16

Treasure beauty from the Maker.
Treasure color, sky and nature.

Treasure walks through endless park

among the winging meadowlark.

Treasure songbirds high on limbs.

Treasure words in humble hymns.

Treasure humming tunes though old
that weave through treetops, warm the cold.

Treasure long and endless streams.
Treasure optimistic dreams.
Treasure truth when grapes are crushed
and when all future hopes are hushed.

Treasure boys with antique toys.
Treasure them who have no poise.

Treasure girls with bouncing curls
while wearing mother's phony pearls.

Treasure those who aren't perfect.

Treasure them with due respect.

Treasure friends, so close to you
and loyal friendship through and through.

Treasure faithful servitude.

Treasure quiet solitude.

Treasure Bible's remedies

and treasure fondest memories.

Treasure all that life has penned.
Treasure pause at trail's end.
Treasure journey, near complete
and rest awhile on wooden seat.

Treasure prayer through sun and shower.
Treasure God in all His power.
Treasure resurrection's way
and Christ's ascension.  What a day!

Treasure blessings from before

Treasure our salvation more.

Treasure Christmas, it's true meaning -

and forgiveness with its healing.

Treasure autumn, winter, spring.

Treasure faith in everything.

Treasure God's tremendous grace -

for each and ev'ry human race.

Treasure not your earthly treasures.
Question not the way God measures.
Just treasure all creation's of.
It's wrapped in love from God above.

Treasure beauty from the Maker.
Treasure color, sky and nature.

Treasure walks through endless park

among the winging meadowlark.

©2016 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

-------

2 Corinthians 5:17 (KJV)
Therefore if any man be in Christ, he is a new creature:
old things are passed away; behold, all things are become new.