louis gander, 27 january 2013
No matter how the breezes blow,
just seek the promise, God's rainbow.
For Noah's faith was always pure,
never failing - always sure.
A rainbow I can see, not touch -
though it doesn't matter much.
God holds it fast, as He holds me.
Bright colors of His rainbow see.
So close, God's armor I will wear.
This world can't fill me with despair.
The storm clouds of the world seize
when touched, I am, with Spirit's breeze.
I state I'm not a 'doubting Thomas' -
but standing fast in Jesus' promise.
He parts the dark clouds of man's sin,
and brings full light of life within.
Before God's spectrum kisses ground,
I know His promise will be found.
I gaze - awed at His universe,
singing praise - each word and verse.
If joy is violet and indigo,
patience pink and peace yellow,
if kindness orange and goodness gold,
then all good fruit of His I'll hold.
If grace is blue and love is white,
and prayer is green and God is light,
the world's sin won't overwhelm,
for I'm in Him - another realm.
If life's a footrace, death blood red,
then God is rainbows of color ahead.
If we're resurrected from sin and strife -
then we have one great "Rainbow Life".
©2009 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http://www.ganderpoems.org
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louis gander, 26 january 2013
This poem ain't a good one.
It may be crass and mean -
but if you read a few more lines,
you'll see what I have seen:
---
I care about appearance. I'll show off latest trends.
I'll change the way I talk and act impressing all my friends.
Don't call me dumb and stupid. I'm not a bit insane -
yet clueless as to pricing so I angrily complain.
First I waste my money on some foreign plastic toy -
and then complain there are no jobs in states like Illinois.
I vote for those who give me stuff like total free health care -
then think I won't be paying it (naively unaware)...
I want a king or emperor to handle my provisions -
tell me how to act and think and make all my decisions.
Don't call me dumb and stupid. I'm just confused with facts.
Just promise me more goodies now. The rich can pay my tax.
Wow! Every time I hear you speak, my knees begin to go.
I faint within your promises - oh, how I love you so!
Just deposit, every month, some cash to my account -
and I'll be so contented. Keep track of my amount!
And 'Bill of Rights" I'll never need - so scrap them all today.
I'm in a state of ecstasy when I hear what you say.
Abortion I don't care about as long as it's not me.
Allow me my vacations so that I can feel free!
My 1st amendment, I can't use. Why bother I, to preach -
that people ought not kill or steal? ( 'cause that's for you to teach ).
And I don't need the 2nd so protect me from my gun.
Shoukl someone point a gun at me, I'll just call 9-1-1.
"Search and seizures" - what are they? You're welcome anytime -
and I won't flush the toilet even once if it's a crime.
The 9th amendment's silly. I have no need for rights -
(nor my responsibilities) - so stop these petty fights.
The 10th amendment, I nix too, awaiting your dictates.
Let's call ourselves "United" and eliminate the "States".
United, we'll be holding hands as one huge human chain -
and simply jump the border here if we spin down the drain.
Though foreign countries snicker, I'll vote again for you.
For I'm a proud American. My insolence shines through!
©2013 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http://www.ganderpoems.org/
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louis gander, 25 january 2013
There is nothing more fine on a warm summer day
than lying in grasses of clover and hay,
where breezes make music through all of the leaves,
and birds do their singing among all the trees.
A butterfly zig-zagged here hither and yon
busily flapping as I had looked on.
I raised my eyes up at the vastness of space
and wondered what God thought of His human race.
Soaking up comfort in all that I saw,
lying there silent, in skeptical awe -
pouring His beauty in nature below,
oh, how did God start it so long, long ago?
He continues to bless us year after year -
and why does He love us? It isn't too clear.
Now God did create us - all different kinds,
so what does He look for in all of our minds?
My horse wandered over and nuzzeled my head.
He wanted me up in the saddle instead.
I sat on his back, took a minute or two -
and pondered the question, pondered a clue.
As I kicked his haunches I knew as I grinned
that he would obey as I leaned to the wind.
He faithfully galloped with all of his might -
the answer revealed as I rode out of sight.
©2009 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http://www.ganderpoems.org/
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louis gander, 23 january 2013
You follow me and haunt me
in terrorizing ways.
Your silence keeps me guessing here
in my most frightened gaze.
Sometimes you stalk me from my left -
and sometimes from my right.
Sometimes you're right in front of me -
or just beyond my sight.
Sometimes taller, you appear,
intimidatingly -
and every day I see you here,
I simply want to flee.
To add some distance, I sometimes
accelerate my pace.
Yet matters not, my quickened step,
I can't increase the space.
You march 'lock-step' along with me
and blatantly impede -
my privacy and liberties
exacting my same speed.
I get enraged and shake my fists -
but you make your fists too.
Once and for all, I'd be so glad
to rid myself of you.
You hang around me mimicking!
I plead with you - just GO!!
I find myself at my wit's end
escaping my own shadow.
Oh yes, just like our shadows,
temptation follows us -
stalking us where e'er we go.
That's why we need Jesus.
©2013 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http://www.ganderpoems.org/
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louis gander, 20 january 2013
Dear Lord and Savior, hear my prayer -
help me comprehend and share...
...please touch my eyes, that I might view -
in ways a blind man might see You...
...please touch my ears, that I might learn -
in ways a deaf man might discern...
...please touch my nose, that I might smell -
Your perfumes where Your flowers dwell...
...please touch my lips, so I can speak -
so bravely bold, yet ever meek...
...please touch my hands, that I might show -
Your awesome works to souls below.
...please touch my feet, without delay -
so I can walk - what others say...
...then touch my heart, from there above,
so I can give - and others love.
Amen.
©2011 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http://www.ganderpoems.org/
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louis gander, 19 january 2013
Grownups seem so funny. They never seem to change.
‘Specially my ol’ grandma. She always acted strange.
Peculiar smells escaped out when she opened up her door.
And as I stepped into her house - heard creaking in the floor.
She seemed a bit hunched over. She wasn't very thin.
Her teeth would sometimes chatter when she moved her double chin.
She decorated very nice. A corner held the broom.
And she'd have her nylons hanging ‘round the living room....
God made grandma special. Her cooking, Heaven sent.
She hadn't much to offer but she really was content.
She was always cooking with her hair back in a bun.
And always had her apron on – had little time for fun.
Sometimes I got in trouble taking cookies from her jar....
The crumbs would seem to mark my sin. I didn't get too far.
One day we had a party. She cried when she was glad.
She cried when she was happy too and cried when she was sad.
Once she claimed I was in sin. I asked her what she meant,
So she opened up her Bible and read a whole event.
I had so many questions that she took me by the hand,
She had so many answers that I couldn’t understand.
She said God loved so deeply and - death held the only key,
So back behind the bloodstains Jesus had to die for me.
Maybe sin is so disgusting that - love has to be unfair,
And maybe that's why grandma cried - when she knelt down in prayer.
When I got hurt, she kissed it well. She was the "best-est" nurse,
Then she said, "Be careful" quoting yet another verse.
She often looked so busy. She sometimes looked quite weak;
But when I left, she always had the time to kiss my cheek.
I miss my grandma very much. She died some time ago.
But when she spoke of Jesus, her face was all aglow.
When I close my eyes I see - that same familiar face,
Reminding me of Jesus and God's everlasting grace.
©2007 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http://www.ganderpoems.org/
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louis gander, 17 january 2013
(A true story from southern Wisconsin - 2006 or 7)
Deep into the woods in my truck I seemed lost.
The brisk, chilly breeze was still holding the frost.
Because it was dried up and totally dead,
I decided to cut down this big tree instead.
The ants had been busy all over that tree,
before my big chain saw had made them all flee.
The noise and vibration and all the turmoil,
(had it happened to me, would have made my blood boil).
But they simply scattered if off to the races,
to other safe havens - to other safe places.
My muscles all ached from my head to my feet,
but I felt so content - with my job now complete.
It seemed that my actions were merely a bump,
to ants now so busy inside that tree stump
I wondered which one, if any, had won -
the ants or myself as I thought my job done.
As I sat on the gate of my rusty old truck,
loaded down heavy with logs - was now stuck -
and realized then that it's sometimes worthwhile,
to sit back a moment, a moment to smile.
©2007 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http://www.ganderpoems.org/
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louis gander, 13 january 2013
Erasure dust was scattered 'round
my make-shift desk where I was found,
inside my garden court serene,
behind a stand of evergreen.
I should have guessed. I should have known,
mistakes I made were all my own.
I wrote too fast and wrote too long
when pencil slid on paper wrong.
Could all God's people understand?
I tried to move my shaking hand.
To reach lost souls is very tough...
Oh Lord, are these words good enough?
No, back and forth erasure moves,
erasing sins that pencil proved,
that sin's mistakes can ruin lives.
They make a mess as death connives.
And next to rose that set on desk,
erasure dust is so grotesque.
Confused, I was, and ill at ease,
at makeshift desk behind the trees.
The perfect roses, red and pink,
had really made me stop to think.
But if I quit, then life grows still -
so write, I do, and always will.
Though God forgives, the pain remains.
Distracting wrongs bring mental strains.
They bring us pain, great guilt and strife,
but God brings breath, forgiveness, life.
Oh, our mistakes will sometimes be,
yet grace through faith will set us free.
When God brings forth a stiff wind gust
and blows away erasure dust.
©2012 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http://www.ganderpoems.org/
-------
Ephesians 2:8
For by grace you have been saved through faith;
and that not of yourselves, it is the gift of God;
louis gander, 12 january 2013
Something way down deep inside
my lost and lonely soul -
had eaten me until I died
of all my self-control.
Someone special lent a hand
that I did not deserve -
and touched an inner fragile strand -
a close and tender nerve.
I knew not what to make of it -
that kind, unselfish act.
My knees got weak and I admit -
was thankful. That's a fact.
And then I sensed a flicker as
a flame on candle waves -
and saw their bumper sticker
that read, "Smile! Jesus Saves!"
Then something in my reddened eyes
had made it hard to see -
when choked, I was, and all my cries
came pouring out of me.
So stunned in awe, I stopped to think
of all I'm guilty of.
I know my sin - once set in ink -
was wiped away with love.
Now, reminiscing has a way
to judge my many years -
so hymns in church on Sunday's now -
can well my eyes with tears.
©2013 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http://www.ganderpoems.org/
-------
louis gander, 10 january 2013
Here is another true story poem (summer 1934)
about my grandmother (Ida McDermott) and my mother (Ruth)
who traveled every day between their farm at North Clayton, Wisconsin
to to deliver cream to Soldier's Grove as told to me by my mother.
(Told in 'first person' from my mother's perspective...)
I had got on and sat upon our wagon load of goods.
all set to view the country hue on rustic road through woods.
But mom said no, I couldn't go. I rarely ever stayed -
but this time did so down I slid. I'm glad that I obeyed.
Our old wagon, always saggin' had rough, rugged boards -
but it did hold that precious load as she had started towards -
the creamery - a guarantee - of how we paid our bills -
in such a life, excessive strife - through vale against the hills.
She left that day on road of clay delivering with care -
four dusty mile - with grimaced smile - and cream that must get there.
Familiar sounds - some barking hounds, a crow up in a tree -
and tough routine, unlike a queen, that she would never see.
Out of the blue without a clue -around a curve and hill -
a drunken guy - flew passing by - like we were sitting still -
then ripped the side of Topsy's hide and threw mom off her seat.
She landed hard, but not too scarred, between the horses feet.
Though somewhat numb, she scrambled some from under hooves and wheels.
A bit perplexed, what happened next - she scrambled and did feel,
a massive rock where she took stock and hid as God provides.
Protected there in silent prayer from grace that never hides.
Some seconds spent, bewilderment, that held them there at bay -
so trampled not, she never got - before they ran away.
She tried to nurse ol' Topsy's curse. Oh, why did God allow -
old Topsy's death with its last breath and further hardships now?
The wagon load could not be sold. I thought that I would scream.
But mama taught that I ought not - to cry over spilled cream.
Is life not fair? Does God not care? Well, mama knew His way...
Obeyed was why - so safe was I. She thanked the Lord that day.
I had got on and sat upon our wagon load of goods.
all set to view the country hue on rustic road through woods.
But mom said no, I couldn't go. I rarely ever stayed -
but this time did so down I slid - and glad that I obeyed.
©2013 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http://www.ganderpoems.org/
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louis gander, 7 january 2013
(A true story poem from the summer of 1934
as told to me by my mother, Ruth)
I hope you enjoy "Life Was..."
Worked like a mule, when not in school, below the scorching sun.
I couldn't treat my calloused feet. My work was never done.
Near idle plows, I milked the cows. A barn, we didn't have -
but under stars, the land was ours and where our cows would calve.
With weary hands I filled the cans. Their tails they would flick -
and sting my eyes while swatting flies. Then bucket, they would kick.
Two hours flat, was done with that, from my familiar stool.
The cows backed off their drinking trough where I put milk to cool.
The morning after, I worked faster, hitching up the team.
One called Nancy, the other Topsy - hauled our milk and cream.
Those two old nags had swayback sags. They were a stubborn lot.
I must confess, they lacked finesse. Race horses, they were not.
The wagon bad, but all we had, so up my brother climbed.
The little whelp was not much help, but "Giddy-up!" he chimed.
As we would sing, the cans would cling the four miles into town.
Population: Twenty seven - but that's if we're around.
With morning sun, that work was done - but now, another day.
We'd fertilize while bread would rise and maybe bail some hay.
I always worked - and never shirked - my duties. I was nine.
But God gave strength to me at length - and life was truly fine.
©2013 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http://www.ganderpoems.org/
-------
louis gander, 5 january 2013
Okay, here's a 'twist'.
The word that rhymes is not in this poem.
Just for fun, I've inserted another word.
Can you guess all the rhyming words? Write them down as you go along... (no peeking, they're at the bottom)
---
An old man lived on the outskirts of town,
wore an old suit that was tattered and
gray.
His hair, snowy white, was always unkempt.
Because kids made fun, he was full of con-
sideration.
Years back, when in school, he make a mistake.
He once, on her desk, put a poisonous -
mushroom.
Now he didn't know that the mushroom was bad.
and when she arrived, she got really -
pleased,
because she liked mushrooms on all types of things,
pizza and pasta - and on chicken
soup.
But then she noticed - removed it from sight.
She knew about mushrooms and knew it wasn't -
edible.
She asked who had done it. This very young child,
didn't admit it - but sat there and -
felt guilty.
Despite good intentions he misunderstood.
He couldn't admit it, now tell me, who
is he?
His conscience held hostage, he couldn't ignore,
Was this still a child that mom could -
forgive?
Though all his emotions were torn far apart,
he learned a good lesson and made a new -
Friend.
He started to give and help out the others,
helping with strangers, sisters and -
with their needs.
Just when we think that we've figured life out,
We let out our holler and let out our -
chest.
I learned that humbleness Satan will thwart,
and with good intentions, we still will fall -
far,
far from Gods promise, far from above.
Once sacrifice fixed it but now it's His -
grace.
He later admitted to teacher, Miss Laurie,
"I thought it was good, I am very -
wrong."
Well, she understood and the story ends here.
He learned a good lesson and had a good -
education.
Wisdom was gained far back in his childhood,
He wasn't perfect but he knew he was -
bad.
Will Heaven we see, if we're very proud?
Will our pride cripple? Will we be -
dead?
Jesus gives life! Don't let Satan deceive,
for we are forgiven if we'll only -
have faith.
For even the demons - they're shuddering still.
Do they believe, and do His good -
commands?
Yes, Jesus proves faithful, time after time,
so follow His footsteps and you'll always -
rhyme!
2009 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http://www.ganderpoems.org/
-------
Just in case you're unsure of some of the 'rhyming' words... here they are:
Brown
Contempt
Snake
Mad
Wings
Right
Smiled
Would
Adore
Start
Brothers
Shout
Short
Love
Sorry
Year
Good
Allowed
Believe
Will
And of course the last word "rhyme" is correct
louis gander, 1 january 2013
Reflecting back to my childhood in the 1960's, I wrote this story poem. I hope you enjoy it.
There, spaced along the highway were twelve inexpensive signs.
Just simple words of black on white next to some rigid pines.
The signs were spaced just far enough they caught my drifting eye -
so pondered I, each single word as they went marching by...
---
"For God..." "so loved..." "the world..." "that He gave..." "His only..." "begotten Son..."
"that whosoever..." "believeth in Him..." "should not perish..."
"but have..." "everlasting life..." "John 3:16"
---
So many times from grandma's house we read 'John three-sixteen' -
and millions more had seen this verse against the evergreen.
My dad, my mom, my brother, I - in humbleness would read
those words as we were driving by and faithfully did heed.
Now who had thought of doing this and painted them with care -
then dug the holes in God's green earth and set them up to share -
to other people driving by so they too could embrace
this verse of loving kindness - of vast forgiving grace?
I read those words each time we passed and wondered who'd take time
and paint the words for profit not - not even for a dime.
I wondered who that man could be each time that we passed by -
and wondered as some years went by - whose signs had caught my eye.
Yes, even as a teen I thought, who painted each of those -
then did the work to put them up? I pondered, just suppose -
he cared not for his pocket book but wanted to impart,
with work and pure compassion - some love within his heart.
Well, nothing lasts forever and sometimes something breaks -
so dad pulled to the shoulder and then hit the car's old brakes.
He took a hammer from the trunk. Bored, waiting for my dad,
I saw him fix a broken sign - and then I knew who had.
©2013 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http://www.ganderpoems.org/
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louis gander, 28 december 2012
It's smaller than a meteor and hasn't that much girth -
yet stronger than the largest bomb and could destroy the Earth.
It can be smooth as velvet and sometimes it can run -
or cooler than a summer breeze or hotter than the sun.
It's smaller than an average gun but started many wars.
Oh, but its so lazy too, escaping many chores.
It started every argument that those around can hear.
It's something most will never lose and always very near.
Receiving orders from the brain, air flowing from the lung -
but if you don't quite get it yet, just bite your wicked tongue!
©2006 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http://www.ganderpoems.org/
Psalm 10:7 (NASB) “His mouth is full of curses and deceit and oppression; Under his tongue is mischief and wickedness.”
-------
louis gander, 26 december 2012
"Father," I pray as I walk along,
"give me the words that would flow like a song.
A poem of promise, of hope and of love
that would focus lost sinners on You up above....
The moon's shining bright from behind an oak branch,
but it's cold here tonight on my dear humble ranch.
I'd be so happy if I was a tree,
for they stand much taller, much taller than me.
Their tops are much closer to Heaven I know,
and they just get closer, the more that they grow.
There's no clouds in the sky - but if so, they would be
joyously singing up there with Thee.
The stars in the sky seem much brighter tonight.
They must be so close they reflect Heaven's light.
The gold, alabaster - the pearls and brass
I bet shine like prisms through diamond-like glass.
Oh, to get closer to Heaven - one peek....
could give me the thoughts that would make these words speak.
The sights would bring words and to earth I would bring
the poem of poems - itself it would sing.
Instead, here I stand in the shivering cold,
a mindless numb man who was late getting old.
But here, down on earth, I'll perform every task,
and faithfully do everything that You ask.
I know that these people will not have a clue,
because this small poem cannot describe You.
So quickly this world forgets who You are,
They miss (as they're sleeping), the bright Morning Star.
I know that the God of Love's heart had to grieve,
when Heaven's gates opened to let Your Son leave -
to die on a cross that folks want to forget.
They just do not care - not one little bit.
But because of Your grace and faith, I believe.
You're the Great Poet and me You don't leave.
You live deep within, so I'll faithfully start -
for the greatest of poems come deep from the heart.
©2009 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http://www.ganderpoems.org/
-------
louis gander, 21 december 2012
Behind the doors of many homes,
no matter where you go -
a multitude of people weep.
Their tears forever flow...
I sat behind my mommy in
the back seat of our car.
My daddy did the driving, but
we didn't get too far.
My mom and I were talking,
and we were smiling wide,
but someone ran the traffic light
and hit us hard broad-side.
The truck came out of nowhere -
the driver, DUI.
And buckled in her seat belt, mom
had watched my daddy die.
I woke up in a hospital -
in pain for several days.
Our fragile world turned up-side-down
in many, many ways...
"Jesus, heal my broken heart.
I feel emotion's tug,
whenever mommy holds me tight
and gives me daddy's hug.
Embraced below Your sunsets
through visions of the wreck -
I know my mom is crying too.
Her tears run down my neck.
"She says we'll be in Heaven there.
It is her only prayer.
Daddy, mother, also I -
are in Your precious care.
Though she forgives the driver -
forget? She never will.
And though the years are passing by,
our tears are flowing still.
"But please forgive me Jesus -
I can't get on my knees.
Fun and laughter, drugs and beer
is all the world sees.
Is several years of crying worth
some stranger's day of fun?
'They know not what they do' You said.
Our tears forever run.
"You hear all my petitions
My deepest thoughts I share.
Your great omniscient presence
surrounds my wheel chair.
And I am not discouraged.
Through faith in You, I know -
in Heaven, we'll be together -
where tears no longer flow."
©2012 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http://www.ganderpoems.org/
-------
louis gander, 19 december 2012
It started out as others, when I got dressed today -
ate breakfast with my fam'ly, for that was just our way.
You dropped me off at school. Your love shone in your eyes.
We hugged and kissed each other. We said our last "Goodbye's".
As I stepped to the entrance, I turned around once more -
and waved to you one final time - then stepped on through the door.
I saw some other teachers. They do what teachers do.
They all had smiled, said "hi" to me - and I said "hi" back too.
I soon got to my classroom. Some other friends were there.
I chatted with my classmates some and then sat in my chair.
Obey the teachers, I was taught. I followed every rule -
but no one knew that this would be, our final day at school.
Life usually, will glide along - and all goes fairly well -
but those are times we soon forget how close we are to hell.
We soon forget that God is love and hates our every sin -
but selfish man gets what he wants as he is dead within.
Not even one short moment here, should ever pass us by -
where Jesus holds our inner thoughts and we don't question why.
Though God hates sin - do we as much? For what man wishes, weaves -
his 'wants' to be accepted - until himself deceives.
From smoking, drugs and alcohol or any selfish thing -
there's someone who will pay the price for what these habits bring.
Why is it there are people who will only love to hate.
I pray that others will be saved - before it is too late.
Oh, why do we love other 'gods' including 'killing games'?
Why do we swear, show disrespect, call God [our Father] names?
Why don't we often worship - honor father, mother?
Why are we never faithful - steal, lie and murder?
Why are we very jealous, envious and covet?
Why not confess, repent? Oh, why will we not do it?
I heard that last announcement. Today, pure evil flowed.
Now I'm okay. I'm in HIS arms, because HE loves me so.
I know it's hard to hold back tears from feeling deeply blue -
but I so love you mommy still - and Jesus says so too.
I'm so amazed to see this place you couldn't even dream of -
a place of immense beauty - where here, we love to love.
In memory of the 20 school children and 6 staff/teachers at Sandy Hook School, Newtown, CT
©2012 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http://www.ganderpoems.org/
-------
louis gander, 16 december 2012
My little Angel sat in school
to learn her A B C's -
yet no one knows the 'half of it'
to put my mind at ease...
There's something in the way I talk
that seems so different now -
that weighs me down here on my knees
and makes me take this vow:
I'll not forget those days we spent
together - you and me.
I'll not forget our memories
and they will always be.
I'll not forget your sunshine smile,
the freckles on your skin.
I'll not forget your flood of love
that flowed from deep within.
I'll not forget our little games
we played - like 'hide and seek'.
I'll not forget your kisses from
your lips upon my cheek.
I'll not forget those little tears -
those times I saw you weep -
then mixed with mine, ran down my cheek
before you fell asleep.
I'll not forget your final hug
was very, very tight.
I'll not forget your final wave
was such a lovely sight.
I'll not forget your first small step
or your first day at school.
I'll not forget God's wonderment -
my precious little jewel.
I'll not forget your favorite clothes,
or favorite ice cream choice.
I'll not forget your little ears
that heard your teacher's voice.
My little Angel sat in school
to learn her A B C's -
It's God who knows 'the all of it'
that puts my mind at ease...
In memory of the 20 children
and 6 adults killed at Newtown, CT
©2012 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http://www.ganderpoems.org/
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louis gander, 11 december 2012
Oh, how I thought I knew it all when I was in my youth -
but as I turn in circles now I find an ugly truth -
that time had shut a door on each decision I had made
and now I have to suffer from the high price I have paid.
Now Jesus led me as a youth but I had vainly went
the stubborn way I wanted to. My whole life I had spent -
going my own selfish way through each and every door -
and thinking that each new one was much better than before.
But then I looked around me as the final door slammed shut.
So stunned, I was - completely - as it echoed in my gut.
I walked through each door willingly to get to where I am -
and now my soul is naked as I stand in front of Him.
But then my God allowed me there to reach back with my hand
and open up that final door. I didn't understand...
I stepped back through and found myself where I had been last week -
and then I saw another door so took another peek.
It too, had opened up for me - so I stepped through again -
and there I was two weeks ago right back where I had been.
So on and on I went through doors as fast as I could run -
until I was a child again - then back where I'd begun.
Now this time I will have no pride and this time I won't fight.
I'll follow in His footsteps and I'll follow Him just right.
Now each door that God opens makes us one close happy team -
and everything goes perfect 'til I wake up from my dream.
---
I only had one lonely chance to live an upright way -
but I messed up. I put me here. There is no more to say...
except that Jesus pulls me from my putrid, sinful grime -
and gives me one more final chance to get it right this time.
©2012 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http://www.ganderpoems.org/
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louis gander, 8 december 2012
Does someone call as snowflakes fall
upon my window sill?
Then comes a sleigh. The horses neigh,
in spirit of goodwill.
There's not a breeze. My mind's at ease.
They bid me, "Come" they say.
So I step out. There is no doubt -
that this is Christmas Day.
I hop aboard and ride on toward -
a town that's splashed with sights.
I look ahead at green and red.
I love those Christmas lights.
The air is crisp. I see a wisp -
on front of horses' mane -
that bounced with pep at every step.
The horses did not wane.
Heard sleigh bells chime through all that time
until I got to town -
And hooves had clopped until they stopped
as I arrived downtown.
Nativity... I smiled with glee -
heard carols in the air.
The shepherds spied. The three Magi
saw Jesus sleeping there.
A camel knelt. In joy they dwelt -
in cushioned stable hay -
A scene on earth of virgin birth -
where one man came to pray.
A poor old man, all wrinkled tan,
was kneeling on the ground.
His hair was messed but he was blessed
as snow fell all around.
Some kids walked through, in contrast to
his contrite position.
And then they felled the cane he held -
reckless recognition.
God woos each one who seek His Son -
but they paid no attention.
I heard them joke each time they spoke
within their own dimension.
He reached in vain to get his cane.
His countenance was grim -
then heard him say, "wife passed away."
as I gave it to him.
Through eyelids tight, they drew my sight -
I saw more tears come through.
It touched my heart, tore me apart -
so I knelt right there too.
Snowflakes falling, Jesus calling -
calling from above.
Can you live it? Christmas spirit -
wooing all, in love...
©2012 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http://www.ganderpoems.org/
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Mark 2:14 (KJV)
Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men.
louis gander, 5 december 2012
Beyond my weathered window,
beyond my little view -
I see one from my rocker and,
I pray you see one too -
see one on each hillside,
see one on your way,
see one in each valley,
see one every day.
The moon shines on the water,
the sea reflects the light.
Boats pass through this painting,
with sails of halo white.
A sea bird glides in silhouette,
above the sails masts,
above the ropes and bollards,
as breezes travel past.
Final work arrives at dusk
before reflections cease -
on piers I've known since childhood
on this, God's masterpiece.
But few have seen this sunset,
and fewer wonder why -
God's bright and vivid colors
still wash across the sky.
And people race His colors -
oblivious and blind -
as God continues painting
so generously kind.
Wide brush strokes still continue,
with colors bold and lush.
Though 'man' has stole the meanings,
God still holds the brush.
Beyond my weathered window,
beyond my little view -
I watch Him from my rocker and,
I pray you see Him too -
see Him in the sunsets,
see Him in your prayers,
see Him in the life you live,
and see Him everywhere.
©2011 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http://www.ganderpoems.org/
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louis gander, 3 december 2012
Peered I, up to the heavens. So stunned, I stood in awe.
His hand swept over East to West and this is what I saw...
A sight exposing every truth, that made me nearly faint.
A sight, that in a million years, no man could ever paint.
A special, brand new masterpiece that God creates each day.
A special, brand new vision that He gives along my way.
I see a vast creation that is pure outside and in
before His work is tarnished by horrendous, evil sin.
He paints His skies so differently. No two are just the same.
He paints the creatures on the earth - the wild and the tame.
The sunsets over mountain peaks are not identical -
and snowflakes falling from the sky - not precisely equal.
The clouds float freely with the breeze while rolling on thin air.
Though no two skies are just alike, they share the canvas there.
And no two meadows look the same as I walk down His path.
I see no trees identical when grown through nature's wrath.
Not equal are the mountain streams or creatures of the wild.
And so unique the sunsets are - as faces of a child.
So patiently, a flower bud waits ready to unfurl.
A swirl of brilliant petals bloom. I see a little girl.
Her whole life laid in front of her that she became forthwith -
another link within the chain this world had yanked her with.
Priorities had dragged her from her work to shopping mall.
And every day, a masterpiece - yet she had missed them all.
Now richly dressed as all the rest who never seemed to care,
she peered inside a cancer ward and saw young children there.
She saw the face of one small boy with cute and chubby cheeks -
and though the tears had dried away she saw the many streaks.
They washed away the happiness in life so short, but giving -
as sin has made the sky to fall on innocent still living.
God waves His hand across the sky, but have I failed to see -
out way beyond my own routine, beyond my vanity?
God paints a perfect masterpiece on each and every child.
I finally saw His masterpiece when that young child smiled.
Peered I, up to the heavens. Through tears, I prayed in awe.
His hand swept over East to West and that is what I saw...
©2012 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http://www.ganderpoems.org/
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louis gander, 27 november 2012
They're Patriots, they're fighting! But Lord, who understands?
Their gift to heirs was liberty, was fragile in their hands.
A liberty that's priceless and was paid with hero's blood,
but liberty that's fragile and as latent as a bud.
Some day the waves of grain will grow in nation gold and bright -
but now the revolution's fight is questioned whether right...
I see a sacrifice so great, from will that never bends,
I see the loss of families, their farms and closest friends.
I see that they were tested greatly under Washington -
and they were tested all the more in battle that was won.
Yes, tested with the seasons that brought hot and cold extremes,
and tested with great trials that had crushed the smallest dreams.
So many lost a limb or two. Some others met their grave,
but great were all the freedoms that to us they freely gave.
Now we'd enjoy these freedoms, if - we care to really own
and guard with every vote so that our freedoms could be sown -
to later generations that would seize the free baton -
to hold our fragile liberties so freedom carries on.
Years later, I saw clamoring and stumbling unsure -
and one by one God-given rights were trampled here under -
the feet of every voter who demanded more and more -
the money clear from Washington 'til all of us were poor.
They argued, as in protest and they fervently appealed,
to eat up necessary seed for next year's harvest yield -
and voted for more cretins who would place their final bet
on wasteful obligations that would pile up more debt.
Naive we are and so deceived with all the 'pc' spin,
"He'll give you lots more money if you'll simply vote for him!"
They buy our selfish, greedy votes and bribe us all until
elected, they're securely fixed right there up on 'The Hill'.
So arrogant, those cretins are, that they need never hide.
They know their office is secure and wear this thing called 'pride'.
They promise us a silver moon (that's moldy old swiss cheese -
with holes in thick promises that shift there with the breeze).
So powerless we all become when they tie up our hands.
They hasten us and chasten us - yet no one understands..!
There's just no more that we can give, for they have taken all -
in taxes, fines and hidden fees, licenses, et al.
They rushed so quickly to the aid of those too big to fail -
and then ignored the rest of us that they refused to bail.
Collecting campaign contributions from the greedy ones -
they then give them the very last of our few meager funds.
Refusing to repent and out beyond the furthest hope,
I see a country dangling from an unforgiving rope -
from poor results that legalized and drove our morals loose.
I see inflated, selfish heads above a tightened noose.
The feet still kick and wiggle as we take our final breath -
and offer no assurance from a sad and certain death -
because we still refuse the God of patient, certain wrath!
Oh, how can we complain when "we, the people" chose our path?
We've mortgaged off the waves of grain and every native park!
We've mortgaged every standing tree - the branches, trunks and bark!
We've mortgaged off Mount Rushmore and the Lady Liberty -
who shines so very beautiful! It's pure insanity!!
I see a sacrifice so great - but our 'will' never bends.
We lose our farms and families - we lose our closest friends.
I see we're harshly tested from a Washington DC -
and we'll be tested all the more until our freedoms see...
We're Patriots! We're fighting! But Lord, who understands?
Our gift to heirs, true liberty, is fragile in our hands.
©2012 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http://www.ganderpoems.org/
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louis gander, 24 november 2012
BASED on a true story
during gooseberry picking season, 1934
as told to me by my mother, Ruth.
---
On our old North Clayton farmstead -
my brother, sister, I -
were picking berries with our mom,
when brother caught my eye.
In each our hands, a bucket with,
our minds on all our work.
We each were very diligent
'til brother went berserk.
Wisconsin's early summer brought us
many ripe gooseberries -
but never could we match what mom,
within her bucket carried.
God's trees stretched high above our heads,
His briers pulled our clothes -
yet creek ran faithful, east to west -
while heat, with sun, had rose.
You may not know our brother yet,
but all of us could tell,
that trouble followed him around
and knew him very well.
He said, "Look at this big kitten!"
He poked it with a stick -
but when it turned and raised its tail,
our mother shouted quick.
Although it wasn't humorous,
we giggled in our fun.
But when mom said it was a skunk -
we sure knew how to run!
Now sin can sure deceive us.
It's fun, this world thinks -
but it is not to play with so,
remember, sin still stinks!
©2012 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http://www.ganderpoems.org/
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louis gander, 11 november 2012
"What is art?” if to me, you would ask,
I'd say its a laborious, challenging task.
God creates life that we can't comprehend -
then puts it in nature, beginning to end...
We suffer the challenge to come even near
the beautiful landscapes we hold ever dear.
The brilliant full sunsets that take breath away
only proves artwork is futile and gray.
Though it’s improved and forever is honed,
creation is simply just mimicked and cloned.
With all of the paintings and all of the words,
none can replace nature’s flowers or birds.
I search, and within me, I find that great art -
comes from creation through a humble heart.
So never take credit, profits or fame -
for next to creation, our work is a shame.
©2009 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http://www.ganderpoems.org/
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louis gander, 10 november 2012
A gold fish swam to the glass.
It's tail fin made the water stir
against the glass. It peered beyond,
but it could swim no further.
I reached too - but couldn't through.
That invisible glass prevented me.
Surviving in our own little worlds
isn't always meant to be.
We have eyes but what deceives?
For everything will come to pass -
this side of the present tense,
and out beyond the solid glass.
Sins law, like glass, invisible.
It's nothing but a deadly lie.
I reached but couldn't feel His touch.
It stayed between my God and I.
I was deep in waters sin.
Within there is no air.
There is no grace inside the law -
and faith cannot live there.
But then one night some time ago,
in quiet stillness, the world heard -
a star shone bright above a babe.
Something big on earth occurred.
He reputed worldly wisdom.
His death on earth did pass,
but heard before that quiet night -
the shout that shattered glass....
"Abba, Father" shattered it.
Sin's law in pieces, everywhere -
forgotten, forgiven, gone.
Grace unlocked us from despair.
Hope washed us ever closer.
Free from circling without breath,
free from sinful bondage where,
the wages of sin is death.
Some day soon we'll see our graves -
yet sin no longer holds us slaves.
The glass is broken. Make no waves -
just tell the world that Jesus saves!
©2008 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http://www.ganderpoems.org/
Romans 6:23 (KJV) For the wages of sin is death; but the gift of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord.
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louis gander, 4 november 2012
Nestled in a valley in a clearing of large oak,
while sunlight touched but treetops where the baby robins woke,
stood an old abandoned cabin that had seen some better days,
had once seen better fam'lies and had once seen better ways.
A little stream meandered by with water clean and pure
that seemed to say, "Come drink from me. Your problems, I will cure."
And sparkled bright, the diamonds that had glistened in the sky,
as did the dew on God's green earth that blessed the patient eye.
Hither, yon the squirrels worked and did what squirrels do.
They shared their ample spacious trees where little finches flew -
where trees wore brilliant yellow, red and golden colored suits
where leaves had wiggled in the breeze among leftover fruits.
But when the sun had cleared the hill and peeked between the trees
exposing all the guilt of man and sin that Heaven sees -
it brought to light the darkness deep inside those timbered wall,
where dust and cobwebs fought a war and won man's mighty fall.
Now just a second, let's step back and tell me how they can -
how tiny little spiders beat the big and mighty man?
Just maybe, man with ego big, was thought too big to fail -
and now the dust and spiderwebs own every board and nail.
That cabin once was filled with 'men', with love and life and health,
but now sits there abandoned and long gone his pride and wealth.
I once knew well the fam'ly who had lived inside those walls
of that abandoned cabin where our Savior's voice still calls.
If mighty man's big head was pulled along with his conceit
from clouds so he'd descend back down and settle on his feet -
then maybe he could still enjoy the cabin in the trees
and persevere through patience with the autumn colored leaves -
that dance above the cabin roof, that seem to taunt en mass -
to each and every one of us until possessions pass -
that man was beaten down by bugs who haven't any clue
that God is still in full control over me and you...
©2012 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http://www.ganderpoems.org/
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louis gander, 1 november 2012
My mama was a loving spouse who did her very best
to keep my father happy and she never did protest -
to what my father said and did to add to her abuse -
and all the things I saw him do. There wasn't an excuse.
My father was a spiteful man who argued quite a lot
and it had hurt my mama so that she became distraught..
I pulled weeds from her garden and I chopped a lot of wood
that heated up our cooking stove. I helped her all I could.
As we prepared for Christmas Day and all that was in store,
enjoyed, I did, those special times with mama even more.
Yes, more than any other month could ever even boast,
December was that special time that we enjoyed the most.
One cold December morning came when father went to find,
a full and perfect Norway Spruce. (I tagged along behind).
The woods were vast. There must have been a million evergreen
which held a billion snowflakes out in sparkling winter scene.
Reflective sunlight shimmered bright which made my eyelids squint
so I looked down and found that all my footsteps made a print -
in snow so fun to walk through as it crushed beneath my feet -
(although at times the drifts caused me to detour or retreat).
That made me pause and catch a glimpse of smoke from fireplace
meandering above our house so wanting to embrace -
a family fraught with nervous fears and silent times 'to boot' -
as father, with his ego big, had muffled mama mute.
But fragrance from the many pine had found my little nose -
and tiny snowflakes glistened while they settled on our clothes -
reminding me that all is well despite my parents quarrels
and I could choose a better life with character and morals -
to live a life, not crooked, as we trekked from place to place -
to find that perfect tree to decorate our living space.
We trampled each direction and at last he gave a sigh.
We finally found that perfect spruce - my father, saw and I.
The night was strangely silent as we sat around our tree
when mom's love and compassion had been proven true to me.
Out through the corner of my eye, I viewed dejected years -
and though she tried to hold them back, I saw those lonely tears.
Throughout that night the light escaped reflecting off the floor,
and whispered prayers were carried out from underneath her door...
But light no longer flickers from the candles flaming tips
and silenced are the verses that I heard from mama's lips.
I know that father long regrets his former wicked ways -
but through my tears, I won't forget those special Christmas days
with scenes of the Nativity and tree exactly right,
with memories of mama and the truth that came to light.
Yes, this was many years ago that father and I spied -
then cut that perfect Norway Spruce the day before she died.
I heard his weeping through the door - such deep, repentant cries -
but now he sees as mama did... through humble Christmas eyes.
©2012 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http://www.ganderpoems.org/
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Romans 10 (NASB)
8 But what does it say? “The word is near you, in your mouth and in your heart”
—that is, the word of faith which we are preaching,
9 that if you confess with your mouth Jesus as Lord,
and believe in your heart that God raised Him from the dead, you will be saved;
10 for with the heart a person believes, resulting in righteousness,
and with the mouth he confesses, resulting in salvation.
11 For the Scripture says, “Whoever believes in Him will not be disappointed.”
12 For there is no distinction between Jew and Greek;
for the same Lord is Lord of all, abounding in riches for all who call on Him;
13 for “Whoever will call on the name of the Lord will be saved.”
louis gander, 1 november 2012
In quantities, our teardrops fall,
they drip off sorry faces -
resulting from our broken hearts.
We save them in our vases -
for yet another lofty dream -
another selfish rose.
Is anyone the wiser?
Tell me no one knows.
And here, our vases set alone,
still filled with empty dreams.
Oh, everybody has them -
it's just the way, it seems.
It's popularity for some -
for others; riches, gold.
But when it's over, said and done,
their rose is dead and cold.
The tears we shed are endless,
and from our souls drawn.
We water every selfish want -
then later wish them gone.
We hold our very special vase -
we think of only 'me' -
but rather where still waters are -
our tears of joy should be.
Do roses last forever?
There is a day they die -
then scattered are the pieces of
the heart that happened by.
Lost pieces, scattered everywhere -
forever, broken are -
and at the end of shattered dreams,
there's one eternal scar.
When in, our earthly dreams, we live,
regret is always sure -
for when we grow our selfish rose,
it simply won't endure.
I often wonder why we work,
and waste away the years -
accomplishing so little with
such lonely, painful tears.
So walk beside still waters.
Through joyful tears you'll see -
a love that never wavers and,
a grace that's always free.
And if your faith is watered
and grows from day to day -
there's really nothing more to do -
for joyful is the way!
©2011 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http://www.ganderpoems.org/
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louis gander, 26 october 2012
He laid a sheet of paper down
upon a table top -
and from his chair he wrote and wrote
so faithfully, non-stop.
They laughed at him and bragged about
the works that they had done.
They filled vast reams of papers, yet -
he had but only one.
They boasted of the many works
their fancy hands exposed.
Great works in rich calligraphy
were pridefully disclosed.
Again they stood around and laughed,
but never did he gloat.
They laughed and scoffed and scoffed and laughed
at everything he wrote..
His life was written on one page -
but what? I didn't know.
The paper he had laying there
was as the driven snow.
Sorrow filled his teary face.
This world fatigued his soul.
The agony that he endured
had taken quite a toll.
I saw that many people judged,
made fun of and demeaned,
ridiculed and criticized
his works that they had seen.
Yet faithfully, he wrote much more.
Were no works written there?
Still blank, his paper had appeared.
I thought it quite unfair.
Unfair that he was working hard
on words that wouldn't be.
Unfair that he was judged by those
on work they couldn't see.
Sometimes we think life's all in vain -
those things we do for God -
but He knows every one of us
and how, through life, we've trod.
So why was his completely blank?
Confused, I sat to think -
but then I learned his words were penned
with tears instead of ink.
It's not the works that we can see
that's valued on our page -
but rather what was done in love
that God will one day gauge.
©2012 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http://www.ganderpoems.org/
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