The Old and Lonely Poet 12-26-15

On edge of arid desert set

a trailer aged in rust

with tires flattened long ago

and covered thick with dust.

A friend I'd known for many years

had lived alone inside -

and if his lamp was burning, then

I knew he hadn't died.

The lamp seemed always to be lit

but never did complain.

Then sure enough, I saw him there

through dirty window pane.

The Great Depression hurt him so.

I saw it in that place.

I saw it in his lonely words.

I saw it in his face.

The mental stress that he went through

was far too much to bear -

and would have been for anyone

if they were sitting there.

But they were not.  Just he alone

survived his great ordeal.

And his reward?  An empty can,

a cold and meager meal.

The old man couldn't hear too good.

The years had quickly passed -

so catching his attention, I

tapped loudly on the glass.

It seemed to take forever, but

he made it to the door.

Black cobwebs hung from corners and -
newspapers hid the floor.

He greeted me with friendly eyes,

skin wrinkled deep from sun.

He made me feel welcome, though

his work was never done.

I visited for quite awhile

as he kept at his rhymes.

He changed his thoughts, his lines, his words

at least a thousand times.

I said, "It must be good enough."

Replied he, "Not at all.

It doesn't capture God's great love.

This needs an overhaul.

For God is love and God is grace

in absolute perfection -

so how can I write something less

to add to this collection?

"This poetry I write for God
must always be perfected -

or basket, full of waste, is filled

with poems I've rejected."

I fell asleep while sitting there.

I woke at 3 AM

and heard him mumble something like,

"...to change the hearts of them."

Observed, I did, his wise old ways.

I'd learned all that I could -

but never measured up to him -

my writing, not as good.

I saw his great intensity.
I stayed with him for days.

I watched his sacrificial work

I saw his humble ways.

He strove to write in perfect words,

expressing his rare love

for all of those who'd done him harm

from politics above.

Forgiving them of evil deeds

had given him such peace -

that each and ev'ry word he wrote

became a masterpiece.

Though sometimes folks still speak of him,

he never set his goals -

to elevate his unknown name -

but rather save the souls -

through writings that should touch the hearts

of other eager men -

who draw attention to themselves

through selfish, prideful sin.

I once decided to return -

to visit one last time.

The old and lonely poet, though,

had written his last rhyme.

The years have passed.  Such great respect

I had for that old man.

Could I improve my poetry

for God?  He proved I can!

©2015 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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Christmas Snow 12-20-15

When I was just a little lad

I heard my mother say,

"There's nothing like a Christmas snow

that falls on Christmas day."

And so one Christmas morning I

was curious to know -

if lawn would still be grassy green

or covered up with snow.

My room was dark.  My bed was warm.

Some sleep was in my eyes.

But hurried, I, to fin'lly see

my Christmas snow surprise!

I threw my blanket off my bed

and slid off to the floor.

It still was dark - so ran into

my dresser's open drawer.

I didn't cuss, but threw a fit -

and then I hurt my shin.

My attitude was sinking as

I slammed the drawer back in.

I raced up to my window where

I'd peek outside to see -

if God had sent a Christmas snow

especially for me.

I threw the curtains to the sides -

I guess a bit too hard -

because the falling curtain rod

had caught me there off-guard.

My arm still hurt from dresser drawer,

my head from curtain rod.

And when I saw no Christmas snow

I blamed both mom and God.

It seemed I didn't matter and -

God had no longer cared.

So feeling sorry for myself -

I, out the window, stared.

All morning long, I trudged along

and dragged my little feet.

It seemed that Christmas, once again,

would turn out incomplete.

My sentiment and attitude

was not a gentleman's.

The tantrums I had Christmas day

had dwarfed all other ones.

I wasted more than half that day

before mom called to me -

and said, "Come quickly.  Look at this.

There's something you should see."

To my surprise, from up above

and falling from the sky -

a Christmas snow proved God loves me,

...but now I'm not sure why.

©2015 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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From Across the Lake 12-12-15

The cabin built with sturdy logs

(that firmly stood awake)

was nestled snugly in the trees

beside this quiet lake.

A dim and amber light shone out

to greet the lonely eye -

reflecting off this tiny lake

here under cloudy sky.

Through window pane, that sorry lamp -

far off on other side -

had shone from on a tabletop

with unseen chair beside.

And faithful chair supported all

the poet's ev'ry task.

Yet that old chair is empty now,

"but why?" you maybe ask.

You wonder who that poet is

or why he is away.

You wonder if he writes at night

or all throughout the day.

But when he comes, the chair again

will groan under his weight.

And over many months and years,

his work will rhymes create.

Now you might think and may conclude

of him, you didn't hear -

but I know this, you've read his work,

at least this poem here.

A glow begins to pour across

the sky in loving fun..

It reaches out so wide and far

with nearing of the sun.

And that light now reflects off of

a paper holding rhyme -

and calls me from across the lake.

I guess it's about time...

©2015 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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A Snowflake 12-05-15

Born high inside a winter cloud,

a snowflake I became.

A snowflake small, defenseless and

too poor to have a name.
I opened up my naive eyes.
I had so much to learn,
but did not know the truth of life
or which way I should turn.

I was content with floating free -

as free as any bird,

until some other flakes whizzed by

and shocked me as I heard;

"Get out of here you stupid flake!

You're in our treasured world.

We're here to make a winter storm."

With that, they whipped and swirled.

Impeding them, they elbowed me.

My world turned up-side-down.

The wind was stiff and tossed me too
above a country town.

My glimpse at Christmas lights was brief

and couldn't be expressed -

as more flakes shoved me to the side

and wouldn't let me rest.

I wanted calm serenity,

but this is what they'd say;

"You bother us!  Get out of here!"

You're always in our way!"

They pushed and shoved and shoved and pushed.

I found it most appalling.

...And none of them had realized

that all of us were falling...

I saw a 'V' formation of

some southern flying geese.

If only I could hitch a ride -

then maybe I'd have peace...
I'd cherish, under tall palm trees,
the warming breezes felt.

But, if indeed, they're flying south,

I wondered, would I melt?

This life can be so burdensome,

this world so turbulent.

I prayed, "God, give me peace and rest"

as I made my descent.
I hovered over roadway where

I thought I'd safely land.

But then came two huge semi-trucks

that didn't understand.

The world had thrown me yet again.

My life became a blur!

But then I slowed and settled on

a Colorado fir.

And where were those insulting me?

It really was profound.

They melted under tire tracks

from traffic eastward bound.

High status, they had fought for but -

their efforts now have ended.
They said that I offended them.
I wished that they had listened.

They elbowed all their way through life -

for more space in the air.

But tell me, was it worth it all?

What did it matter there?

Retired now, I think of things
for which I am not proud -
and all the selfish thoughts I had
since falling from that cloud.
I think of times I prayed to God

and thought He didn't listen.

But Christmas lights around the town,

across the snow, now glisten...

©2015 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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Your Love 11-29-15

Frosted needles on the pine

in this, the greatest nation.

Oh, why God, did you bless us with

Your good and great creation?

Rainbow smiles on every race,

between their dimples, bends.

Oh, why God, did you bless us with

such good and priceless friends?

A cross on steeple's pinnacle,

now draws us from our search.

Oh, why God, did you bless us with

Your Son's eternal church?

---

So why, God, do you bless me so

when I'm so blindly swerving -

on and off your 'narrow road',

when I'm so undeserving?

I fall down on arthritic knees.

I bow my weary head.

I used to focus on my wants,

but now I'm Yours instead.

From frosted needles, rainbow smiles

to cross that stands above,

I know now why You've blessed me so.

May others find Your love.

©2015 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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When Fighting Hate 11-24-15

Picture from: https://chazzw.wordpress.com/2012/03/17/the-missing-of-the-somme-geoff-dyer/

It matters much

when two hearts touch,

yet war has its demand.

When fighting hate,

my flag is great,

but some don't understand.

Now it's a shame

some played their games

while we were undermanned.
Through heat and cold,

we all were bold,

but some don't understand.

While taking flak,

I watched his back.

We fought them man to man.

It happened fast,

that deadly blast,

but some don't understand.

With comrade dead,

sad tears I shed.

It's not what we had planned.

It makes no sense,

my guilt's immense,

but some don't understand.

Arriving home

with war syndrome,

experienced firsthand.

It all seems wrong

with heroes gone,

but some don't understand.

I'll make it though,

disfigured so.

This is my wonderland.

It's God I need,

I do indeed,

but some don't understand.

It matters much

when two hearts touch,

but war has its demand.

When fighting hate,

our cause is great.

Still, some don't understand.

©2015 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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On Winds Of Time 11-22-15

The beauty of that place was such

that I just hadn't mattered much.

Except for me, the trees were bright

with vibrant leaves.  Oh, what a sight!

The crowds would mingle and would rest

among the brightest and the best

where thoughts and dreams together meld

in beauty so unparalleled.

Those autumn trees would grin and shout,

"Hey, look at us.  Come check us out.

We've colored leaves for you to see."

And so it was for ev'ry tree -

except for me with branches bare.

I didn't brag.  I didn't dare -

for people laughed - and newlyweds

just rolled their eyes and shook their heads.

A boy yanked off my one last leaf,

then ran away - that little thief!

So there I stood, ignored, alone.

I was a poet tree, unknown.

Exposing all my worthless whims,

the breezes weaved around my limbs.

The days were long and getting cold.

I knew that I was growing old.

A gentleman came strolling by

who paused a bit.  I don't know why.

He was a man, quite elderly

who found an old leaf under me.

He picked it up and for a while,

I thought I saw a little smile.

He contemplated for a time

and then reread my dead leaf rhyme.

I'm not a poet tree, they say

so yes, my poems blow away.

But high in humble love they sail -

across the plains and over vale,

over seas and over shores,

before they rest near Heaven's doors.

They're found by men of humble heart
whose souls are touched and set apart.

Let colored leaves not camouflage
those covered trees that sabotage
the perfect rhymes of poet's love
which blow as snow from God above.

God's love is oftentimes disguised

from people who are mesmerized

by pretty leaves that promise bliss

and worlds of joy and happiness.

But seasons come and seasons go
as brooks and streams and rivers flow.
They never stop.  They never end.
If only man could comprehend.

For sailing from the empty trees

are tears of love inside the leaves.

So leaves as these are worth the rhyme

and fly along on winds of time.

©2015 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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Cuckoo Clock 11-15-15

The time is almost 3 AM.

but I don't really care -

except the ticking of the clock

is more than I can bear.

The pendulum swings back and forth.

It doesn't ever sleep.

And neither have I had a wink,

(though I have counted sheep).

The tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock, tick

is all it ever does.

A cuckoo clock is all it is

and all it ever was.

It can't jump off the wall and run.

That little bird can't fly.

She hasn't helped a single soul.

She's not as good as I.

So should I take her insults too?

She makes my stomach sour.

She says that I am cuckoo ev'ry

hour on the hour...

A burst of great emotions come

whenever she pops out -

and tells me I am cuckoo 'till

it makes me want to shout.

But then she quickly sneaks back in

and shuts her little door.

If only she could stay in there,

and not pop out at 4.

Her strong opinion does not change

and I know it won't end -

but I'll forgive that little bird.

She really is my friend.

And so I pull the weights back up

to give her one more day

to tell me I am cuckoo, 'cause -

that's all that she can say.

The time is almost 4 AM.

but I don't really care -

except the ticking of the clock

is more than I can bear.

©2015 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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Doug, the Bug 11-8-15

"If I could elevate myself

and look down from the sky,

then I could see the facts of life

and learn of truth and lie."

Now that's what Doug, the Bug had thought.

He therefore went afoot -

t'ward great gigantic tree atop

its long and bulging root.

Then finally he started up.

That trunk had massive girth.

It seemed to be as solid as

the ground upon the earth.

He climbed the largest limb he found

and then the highest branch.

It all seemed very sturdy there.

It overlooked a ranch.

Back up, Doug glanced - and then he spied

the highest leaf of all!

And so he climbed some tiny twigs

which seemed quite weak and small.

"I'm almost there," he told himself,

"I'll rest on highest leaf."

At last that bug stood right on top

his firmly held belief.

Now Doug gripped tight, that little leaf

that he, himself, had earned.

And though he thought he knew it all,

one lesson hadn't learned.

You know, the truth is not always

the things that we can see.

Invisible, those autumn winds

had yanked that leaf from tree.

So Doug, the Bug was on his own.

He feared for his own soul -
and he was at the mercy of

that wicked wind's control.

He soared there on that wayward leaf

to places yet unknown -

then settled on a foreign ground

where he was all alone.

All winter he, in circles walked

and aimlessly did roam.
He shed such long repentant tears
but couldn't find his home.

He ran and cried and cried and ran -

then fell flat on his face.

Then God reached down and picked him up.

And that's what we call grace.

©2015 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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Seven Words 11-1-15

(based on a true story)

Her son stepped to the pulpit with

some papers in his hand.

He cleared his throat and thought a bit,

but would they understand?

Would they know who mom really was?

Would they know they had fun?

Would they know mom loved God and prayed?

Would they know all she'd done?

Would they know she was always poor,

her pain and all her crying?

Would they know she helped little ones

with smiles and hugs while dying?

He laid, then, all the papers down

and peered up into Heaven.

Inside his mind he edited

his words right down to seven.

Would seven words explain it all

and would those words prevail -

there in each heart describing mom

in intimate detail?

Now friends and fam'ly waited for

her son with eager ears -

as he concluded all his thoughts

while holding back his tears.

He took a breath and slowly spoke

until his talk was done.

"Ev'ryone loved mom, because,

[my] mom loved ev'ryone."

He noticed many sparkles flash,

in each and ev'ry eye.

He gazed down at the casket then -

and said his last goodbye.

©2015 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

-------

God knows all corners of our minds.

He knows our subtle ways.

He knows the number of our hairs,

deceptions of our days.

But love connects both God and man -

the greatest and the last -

and son knew he would see her soon,

for time on earth flies fast.
©2015 louis gander

Meet My Friend, 'Love' 10-26-15

Hello there!  Meet my friend, 'Love'.

Inside my heart, He lives.

My other friends reside there too,

but my friend 'Love' forgives.

I have not done much for my 'Love' -

as my life was a mess.

And I remember my mistakes.

He loves me nonetheless.

'Love' does not tally up mistakes

that I have made before -

but 'Love' pours grace on all the more

and does not keep a score.

Ashamed, I am, when I think back

and wish I could divert

my thoughts and acts of selfishness

and all who I have hurt.

I often cry when I remember

all of my mistakes,

but 'Love' absorbs my pain and guilt

and does whate'er it takes.

'Love' can't reside in angry hearts

that it finds hard and cold,

but rather in the humble heart,

now whether young or old.

Atrocities of sinful man

just guts my inner soul -

but 'Love' is great and 'Love' is good

and 'Love' is in control.

Though 'Love' allows imperfect man

to make a sinful choice,

He cleared a path of perfect peace

so we can all rejoice.

Words can't express the joy I feel

and all I'm thinking of -

for God's the great creator and

He is the God of 'Love'.

I'm pleased that you have met my 'Love'.
Does 'Love' reside in you?
If you love others as yourself
then 'Love' is your friend too.

©2015 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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1 John 4:8 (NASB)

8 The one who does not love does not know God, for God is love.

Mark 12:30-31 (NASB)

30 and you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart,

and with all your soul,

and with all your mind,

and with all your strength.’

31 The second is this, ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’

There is no other commandment greater than these.”

To Gardens Yet Unknown 10-20-15

Beneath the calm and quiet sky

two butterflies go drifting by -

as yellow as the sun.

A wild flower bends a bit

as one has temporarily lit.

The other joins in fun.

Then off again they wing with task

but yet, so playfully I ask,

Are they that much in love?

They look to be, or so it seems,

alive inside their unique dreams

which float so high above.

It's if they taunt, it's if they tease

my little world of memories,

of our lives long ago.

Those treasured thoughts of yesteryear

still seem so recent, seem so near,

I'll never let them go.

Their presence here is so worthwhile

I find myself with pleasant smile,

though I sit all alone.

Then finally, they both take flight
to other places out of sight,
to gardens yet unknown.

©2015 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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How Beautiful! 10-15-15

How beautiful, the autumn day!

How beautiful, the trees!

How beautiful, the up-stretched limbs!

How beautiful, their leaves!

How beautiful, the sunlit skies!

How beautiful, the rays!

How beautiful, creation's peace!

How beautiful, the days!

So beautiful, the season's end

when I breathe my last breath.

Because, when I'm at Heaven's door,

how beautiful, earth's death!

You see, this earth was all I knew.

Earth died so I'd arrive

to dreams too unbelievable -

in Heaven's world, alive!

How beautiful when Winter's past!

How beautiful the Spring!

How beautiful the Angels are!

How beautiful they sing!

How beautiful my Jesus is!

How beautiful His face!

How beautiful His perfect love!

How beautiful His grace!

©2015 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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Great Democratic Debate, The 10-13-15

With crowd, ecstatic, you might think

that truth might finally win.

But no, deceptions lingered on

in shallow, selfish din.

The candidates deceive us all.

Pet projects, each discusses.

They came to this, the 'Great Debate'

in jets and campaign buses.

The smiles they wore were painted on.

So sly, those hungry foxes.

And all of them were standing tall

on top of their soapboxes.

---

The 'stomach' growled greedily,

"Hey, I'll do much more taxing.

I'll gouge the ones who go to work

so you can be relaxing."

The 'hand' said, "I will snatch the purse

of ev'ry working man.

I'll give you fruits of their hard work.

Now do you understand?"

The 'tongue' spoke up quite sharply then,

"You've heard me, one and all!

Benghazi, no, is not my fault -

because I don't recall...

I fell down and hit my head

before that legal hearings.

I would've shown up if I hadn't

lost my fav'rite earings.

I'll tell that hearing anything -

and lie, for goodness sake -

Who cares about ambassadors?

What difference does it make?

We need a woman president!

We need a leader NOW!

We need to have a first "first man"

I need you to allow...

me to be a president.  Because I've always wanted

to be since smoking pot in college with Bill..

And I don't care if this rhymes or not

because I JUST WANT TO BE PRESIDENT!!

(The moderator covered this

with manufactured cough.

And when the viewers had enough

they turned their TVs off.)

We do not need a woman.

transvestite, or a man.

We do not need a socialist

but someone true who can.

We don't need someone 'statesman-like'

but rather someone real.

If not, we'll some day be blown up

by bad atomic deal.

Now even if we save the whales

and stop all soil erosion -

global warming we will get

with nuclear explosion.

Yes, 'presidential' they may look

and 'presidential' sound -

but what they do is critical

for answers to be found.

The Constitution has them all -

so maybe we should look.

Love country this time.  Let us not

elect another crook.

The last one you had voted in,

in EV'RY aspect failed -

then violated sev'ral laws!

So why is he not jailed?

Now here's another "great" debate.

With empty words, each shares...

What diff'rence does it really make?

It tells me this:  Who cares?

©2015 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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I Want To Share 10-10-15

I once thought I was happy 'cause

I had good friends and cars.

And sadly, so mistaken, I

would visit clubs and bars.

Though I was locked in sins distress,

I thought surroundings true.

And nothing said could make me change.

No, nothing else would do.

Sin won its way deceiving me.

Its lies chained me to walls.

I thought my life successful 'til
I heard those whispered calls...

Throughout my life, I heard those words -

but sin allowed no choice.

A question echoed "Who are you?"
I heard in my own voice.
---
Yes, in a rut, I lived my life -
in dungeon, it had seemed.
But nothing changed, no matter how,
how loud that I had screamed.

That cold, dark dungeon seemed to speak -
so then I'd laugh and joke.
But scoffing echoed back at me
each time that I had spoke.

Then through sins darkness, I had heard
a key that seemed to cry.
The lock had turned in agony
but I had not known why.

From dungeon's depth, a creak I heard.

That heavy-laden door

unlocked to let a crack of light

expose me on that floor.

Light filtered through the musty dust

that hung thick in the air.

I, for the first time, realized

how pointless it was there.

And so it was, I saw myself

in my dark world of sin.

I smelled the odor of my life

and felt the filth within.

The shackles, I myself had locked,
weighed heavy on my legs.

But even if, I wanted out -
who'd hear my humble begs?

And then those rusty hinges squeaked -
above the rust rebelling.
"Forgive them Father!" I had heard
against cries, screams and yelling!

I held my hands tight to my ears.
So deafening, the riot!
Then suddenly, a stillness came -
and everything grew quiet.

Then once again, I heard that voice -

yet... no one I could see.

But oh, the freedom I had felt

when chains fell off of me!

I made my way toward ray of light.

So weak, I had to crawl.

As dungeon's door kept opening -

more light of truth I saw.

I then confessed all black and white

and ev'ry shade of gray!

I saw rich colors in His world!

I saw the light of day!

I saw His palms, His nail scars -

then cried through my repentance!

That breath of fresh air woke me up!

It all made perfect sense!

The brightness of His rainbow-ed world

was more than I could bear!

He raised me up onto my feet -

so now I want to share.

I want to share to those I see -

so proud of their new cars -

inviting me to ride with them

to parties and to bars.

There's too much thrill in Jesus' arms

to go back to those chains.
And even through my failures here,
God's love for me remains.

©2015 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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And Can It Be

Text: Charles Wesley, 1707-1788

Music: Thomas Campbell 

Tune: SAGINA, Meter: 88.88.88 with Repeat

1. And can it be that I should gain 

an interest in the Savior's blood! 

Died he for me? who caused his pain! 

For me? who him to death pursued? 

Amazing love! How can it be 

that thou, my God, shouldst die for me? 

Amazing love! How can it be 

that thou, my God, shouldst die for me? 

2. 'Tis mystery all: th' Immortal dies! 

Who can explore his strange design? 

In vain the firstborn seraph tries 

to sound the depths of love divine. 

'Tis mercy all! Let earth adore; 

let angel minds inquire no more. 

'Tis mercy all! Let earth adore; 

let angel minds inquire no more. 

3. He left his Father's throne above 

(so free, so infinite his grace!), 

emptied himself of all but love, 

and bled for Adam's helpless race. 

'Tis mercy all, immense and free, 

for O my God, it found out me! 

'Tis mercy all, immense and free, 

for O my God, it found out me! 

4. Long my imprisoned spirit lay, 

fast bound in sin and nature's night; 

thine eye diffused a quickening ray; 

I woke, the dungeon flamed with light; 

my chains fell off, my heart was free, 

I rose, went forth, and followed thee. 

My chains fell off, my heart was free, 

I rose, went forth, and followed thee. 

5. No condemnation now I dread; 

Jesus, and all in him, is mine; 

alive in him, my living Head, 

and clothed in righteousness divine, 

bold I approach th' eternal throne, 

and claim the crown, through Christ my own. 

Bold I approach th' eternal throne, 

and claim the crown, through Christ my own.

These Two Short Words 10-5-15

I'm just a short and simple poem with two short words to say

and though forgotten, I will be - these words won't pass away.

They're given to the ages, to people large and small.

They're given to us freely and they're given to us all.

Though I am insignificant - a poem of the hour,

forget my words, but share these two.  They have tremendous power.

Do not expect that I'll depict a nature scene with birds -

for soon you'll see me disappear - so first find these two words.

Now Jesus healed the lost and sick and lame in His good time.

He calmed the sea and fed the crowds, but never did the crime.

Yet still today, man scoffs although He never hurt a soul -

and that's why these two words will live beyond the written scroll.

Yes, you'll forget this little poem and soon forget the rhymes,

and soon go back to other things and entertaining times.

But don't forget these two short words and hold them very near.

For these two words, "Jesus Saves!" shall never disappear.

©2015 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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Arguing With 'Joy' 10-1-15

(arguing with 'joy')

I know that you are kidding me!

I am not a believer!

It's happiness I care about.

You're but a deceiver.

My entertainment is a must.

I want to laugh and joke.

Do you think you can handle that?

Now give me one more 'smoke'.

I want the comforts I hold dear.

I like my TV show.

I want to watch my team play ball -

and I want you to go.

I'd rather be intoxicated

on fine, red berry wine.

I'd rather live in merry bliss

than walking your straight line.

I have a bad hangover now,

so please just go away.

If some day I should be content,

I'll let you, with me, stay.

---

An evil life, man can now live

and he, his life destroy -

but only God has perfect love
which will bring perfect joy.

©2015 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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Arguing With 'Love' 9-29-15

(arguing with 'love')

There's not one speck of you in me.
I'm macho, tough and strong!
Go back to those who have soft hearts.
Go back where you belong.
I have no fear of anything
as long as I have breath.
I have no fear of failure and
I have no fear of death.

You make me whimper in my pride

You're not for men like me.

You are so difficult to say
and cause such jealousy.
My ears have heard the saddest songs

that man could ever sing.

You cannot give me what I want -

You are not comforting.

You melt my heart and kill my soul

when everything goes wrong.

You make me sad.  You make me blue.

You string me out so long...

...then break my heart and make me cry.

You made me very sad.

You make the tears run down my cheeks.

I've no more words to add.

For God so loved the world, you say -
a world with many views.
So am I not to judge all those
who don't live in my shoes?

Their cultures are so different

so tell me, must I start -

to show you to my enemies

so they can see my heart?

You also tell me Someone died -

that sacrifice begins

(despite a very cruel death)

to save me from my sins...

...that you are something different -

and something I must share -

to someone I don't even know -

so that they know I care.

Am I but showing off to friends?
Will they make fun of me -
if they should see me shed a tear
or see me on one knee?
Well, humbled, I will tell of you
until I get to Heaven -

for you are the most precious gift

that God has ever given.

©2015 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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Arguing With 'Truth' 9-23-15

(arguing with 'truth')

You make me sick!  You pester me
right here in my dominion.
Don't contradict what I have said!
I've rights to my opinion!

Get out of here!  You're in my way!
I stumble over you!
The 'ends' will justify my 'means'.
I have great things to do.

I know that only I'm correct.
So hear me!  I protest!
My education proves me right.
I really know what's best.

I argue with you all the time!
You never care a wit!
You never, ever compromise.
You never bend a bit.

I fight you and abhor you too!
You never reassess -
your stubborn, hard validity.
Indignant righteousness!

You speak, but then don't listen and
ignore my arguments.
The silence really angers me.
I'm not at all content.

Your stubborn facts confuse me so.
You make me very mad.
But oh, my friends support me so.
Deception's not so bad.

My mind was made up long ago.
You can't get hold of me.
I'm all wrapped up in my belief
I chase religiously.

Rock solid was your steadfastness.
I thought you were a joke~!
...but wish I'd paid attention to
my conscience when you spoke.

You made me feel so guilty that
I blamed it all on you.
Now I'm alone and so depressed.
Deceptions were untrue.

Ignore you?  I can't any more.
All lies now seem so strange.
As God in all His glory there,
you'll never, ever change.

You've opened up my weary eyes.
Once blind, I now can see!
Thank God you've now accepted me -
for you have set me free!

©2015 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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In the Sand 9-20-15

The footprints in the sand have long ago been washed away,

by rising tides and sinful waves that we can see today.

We wander beaches daily searching for them all around,

then wonder why our Savior Lord is nowhere to be found.

We search through our theologies and search our world o'er.

We search so far and long and hard for evidence and more...

...as wars and chaos follow us.  The poor and migrants too.

We are so overwhelmed, we say.  Oh, what are we to do?

We pray for all our sicknesses and great financial woes,

but selfishness is evident and oh, it really shows.

It shows with more vacations and our thoughts in ev'ry pleasure.

It shows with bigger homes and faster cars and ev'ry treasure.

How can we find our loving God when buried in our stuff?

And when do you think God will fin'lly say He's had enough?

But memories still carry truth that someone carried us -

so when we glance back at the shore, remember, it was Jesus.

So don't forget to thank Him for the blessings that He gave,

then pray that He will idle tides and ev'ry sinful wave.

Indeed, if we can witness peace throughout both sea and land

it's then we'll notice once again those footprints in the sand.

©2015 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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Flat On My Face 9-17-15

I labored at busy pace
before I fell flat on my face.

I cried in self-pity and shame.

But as tears subsided,
my eyes (once misguided),

convinced me that I was to blame.

Yes, as my tears dried up,
I saw them both close up -

those scars that went deep in His feet.

I couldn't erase
all the pain in His face -

so how I wished I could retreat.

I'd weasel away
from the viewing that day -

the scars in His feet that still fail -

to tell the whole story
of Christ in His glory

who lovingly took each dull nail.

Accepting the whipping,
the pain and blood dripping -

He watches my new life begin.

So there I had stayed,
because Jesus had paid -

His life that He gave for my sin.

I'm eating a diet
of thoughts.  It is quiet -

except for my own weeping sound.

I cannot compete
with His pierced dusty feet

while lying here flat on the ground.

For Jesus, the Master,
has given much faster -

a life that I've always longed for.

So more than my pain
is the lot of my gain

as I wait, reverently, Heaven's door.

©2015 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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His Stepping Stones 9-12-15

The trees had towered high above with leaves that blocked the sun,

except sporadic points of light with rays that danced in fun,
reflecting smooth and softened light off surface they would share,

from lazy stream meandering through lush, thick grasses there.

The random, yellow flowers sprinkled down along the bank,

had framed a lovely picture 'round the stream where sparrow drank,

as ripples crossed the mirrored stream where it was somewhat wide,

before that sparrow took to flight beyond the other side,

I prayed that I might also find a way beyond the stream,

but there was no where I could cross to realize that dream.

Determined that I'd have my way, I held each leather shoe

and started wading 'cross the stream to get another view.

But splash!  Face down I tripped and fell, then crawled out soaking wet.

I trudged myself downstream a bit.  His truth and my eyes met.

It's 'one' to 'zero'.  God has won and that's the final score.

Still soaking wet from head to toe, I started thinking more...

Sometimes through life we have no clue.  I ponder as I sit -

of what God's done for me and you, just there downstream a bit.

He gives us His instruction and a 'dose of wisdom' loans -

if patient, we can't learn to be, to find His stepping stones.

©2015 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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Proverbs 1:7 (NASB)

"The fear of the Lord is the beginning of knowledge;

Fools despise wisdom and instruction."

My Special Friend 9-8-15

Sad I, the tiny sparrow was.

I wasn't very big.

Yet happy were my friends in flight,

from limb to branch to twig.

I couldn't eat as others did

and didn't seem to grow.

I'd follow quite a ways behind.

I was too weak and slow.

Yes, they had teased and laughed at me

when I was back in school.

They'd scoff, then fly away from me.

Some kids can be so cruel.

Yet growing up, I was okay
here living out-of-doors.

So optimistically I grew -

but when it rains, it pours.

A violent gust of wicked wind

had hurled me to the ground!

The other birds had seen me fall -

so they had gathered 'round.

A Shepherd came when I had felled -
so sudden and abrupt.

My sore and crippled body then

was in His hands He cupped.

I saw some ugly, rugged scars

cut deep into those hands.

My wing was hurt, I couldn't fly.

This wasn't in my plans.

He raised me up.  It frightened me!
The other sparrows hushed.

Because I didn't know His love

I thought that I'd be crushed!

Believing things that I could see,
I held to physical.
Unknown, the things that I could not,
I feared the spiritual.

Yet now He holds and cares for me

unlike those other birds.

I can't describe the peacefulness.

I just can't find the words.

It's odd that I once feared the Lord

when I was on the mend.

But I have learned He loves me so.

Now He's my special friend.

©2015 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

---

Matthew 10:28-30 (NIV)
28 Do not be afraid of those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul.

Rather, be afraid of the One who can destroy both soul and body in hell.

29 Are not two sparrows sold for a penny?

Yet not one of them will fall to the ground outside your Father’s care.