A Wondrous Story 2-2-13

I'd love to be a poet - a real one, you know -

so I could write man's world off allowing God's to glow.

I'd write a wondrous story, that we could all take part

and live it in reality - each one with perfect heart.

I'd think outside my circle, with paper, ink and pen -

and think outside my flimsy box to live in peace again -

in gardens filled with blossoms - all colors full and bold -

that I could sweep my arms across and many flowers hold.

I'd jump inside my story with animals and birds,

living in His nature and camouflaged with words -

that whisper as the breezes in true harmonic cord,

that bring us lives so unsurpassed when living with our Lord.

I'd peer up to the mountains, at several waterfalls,

that rain grace down from Heaven where every angel calls -

to show to us a perfect world where He can overwhelm -

where man rejects but God perfects His great creation's realm.

I'd never hide inside my world, but fully would expect -

that men would treat each other with a solemn, deep respect -

that women dress with modesty and also could endow -

that girls learn to curtsy slow and boys would learn to bow.

I'd stroll inside my poem free from envy, sin and hate -

and walk beside still waters where 'the way' is always straight.

And I shall keep on writing true for many, many years -

until I see no longer through my sad and yearning tears.

I'd love to be a poet - a real one, you know -

so I could write man's world off allowing God's to glow.

I'd write a wondrous story, that we could all take part

and live it in reality - each one with perfect heart.

©2013 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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Just Another Angel 7-23-12

(based on a true story this morning, Monday, July 23, 2012.  The pastor is 91)

His wife and son were in the store.

He shuffled past me twice.

My eyes were red.  I hid my face.

I wanted no advice.

He must have sensed my emptiness

as I was feeling low -

because he sat down next to me.

I had nowhere to go.

We both were thinking our own thoughts

and no one said a word -

until his son walked up to us

and this is what I heard...

"My dad was once a pastor -

and had been several years.

He helped so many countless souls

and quenched their many fears."

Just then his wife came up to him

and said, "I'm ready now."

It had an impact over me.

Right then, I knew not how.

The pastor said some simple words

as he stood up to leave.

He simply said, "God loves you and

He wants you to believe."

He turned, began to walk away,

so I said, "Thank you much."

At that, he smiled and said goodbye.

I felt a loving touch.

A touch that cannot be described

in just a word or two -

but cures the lowest, broken heart

when it hears, "God loves you."

Was this a pure coincidence?

Were these words meant to be,

from just another angel sent,

from God, to earth - for me?

©2012 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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E and M 5-28-12

Here,

take the letters 'E' and 'M'

and you will plainly see -

that if you switch the letters 'round,

you'll get a word called 'ME'.

Meaningless, the 'E' and 'M'

unless they're switched around.

They have a different meaning and

of course, a different sound.

Now though the word 'ME' supersedes

the letters you can see.

the meaning of this simple word

is greater far than 'ME'.

For 'ME' is such a simple word

and if I have no breath -

there won't be any living 'cause

without life there is death.

So, 'life' is even greater than

a pile of all our words -

for living in His image is

as farthing for two birds.

Two birds that are not purchased

will fall to desert sod,

but grace is breath for you and 'ME'

and it is all of God.

So,

if 'ME' is more than letters,
and 'life' is more than 'ME',
and God is more than life itself,
then it's all plain to see.
If meaningful, this profound truth
then what are we to do?
What does life eternal mean
and who is God to you?

©2012 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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Matthew 10:29 (KJV)

"Are not two sparrows sold for a farthing?

and one of them shall not fall on the ground without your Father."

As God Whispers 03-02-12

Don't give me a brand new computer

to type all the words on my mind -

just give me an old scrap of paper

and maybe some words I can find -

to write with my old, stubby pencil,

a poem or two I think of,

to soften the hardest of hardened hearts -

and write a few words of God's love.

And no, I do not have erasures.

I used them up long, long ago -

for mine was the worst of all wicked hearts -

and lowest of all of the low...

I tried to erase every one of my sins,

that I scribbled for years on my heart -

but only a cross where Jesus shed blood

could give me a "born-again" start.

Though I am not better than anyone else

no matter how I have been livin'...

There's only one thing that has set us apart -

and that is, through faith, I'm forgiven.

So please give an old scrap of paper,

to someone contented to be -

writing, as God whispers breezes,

in shade of this old willow tree.

©2012 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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A Joyous Life 2-5-12

Burned alive, my soul was,
despite my swings and thrashes -
and I had been completely dead,
a filthy heap of ashes.

And Heaven, I forgot about
when living with the masses.
So futile there, my soul was -
and learned life quickly passes.

Excuses weren't accepted.
Results were very vile.
I had to stop and think a bit -
and cry for quite awhile.

But that was then and this is now.
I want you all to see -
that I had no one else to blame
except for 'little me'.

Then sought I Jesus, by and by,
above the clouds and birds.
His grace was free. Now so am I
to leave these loving words:

If you would simply just repent -
and let His Spirit free -
through faith, you'll find a joyous life
and so contented be.

©2012 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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Too Many Flowers? 9-15-11

As God creates more flowers,

reflecting Heaven's love,

mere words cannot explain it all -

the beauty I speak of...

In fields of perfect flowers,

perfume and nose, we meet. 

I find myself among them as

they all surround my feet.

My thoughts were drawn among them.

My eyes saw every kind.

Now vivid colors capture me

like photos in my mind.

I spy a single flower.

I take a closer peek.

I find that every flower here

is special and unique.

I turn around to walk away.

I'm torn at what I see.

I've stepped on many flowers and

they will no longer be.

No longer to be cherished,

no longer to be smelled,

no longer to be photographed,

no longer to be held. 

Again I spy a single one -

this trampled one instead.

I know that it will always be -

forever lost and dead.

But I excused my clumsy feet

which trampled every kind -

Oh, how could I avoid them all -

with all that's on my mind?

Are there too many flowers?

Are those I trampled missed?

Are there too many babies?

Are those aborted kissed?

As God creates more flowers,

reflecting Heaven's love,

mere words cannot explain it all -

the beauty I speak of...

©2011 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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Genesis 1:1 (KJV)

"In the beginning, God created..." 

Walking Faith 2-20-11

What is music to the deaf?

What are rainbows to the blind?

What are shoes worn by the lame?

What mere words can so define...

a special Son,

sent to a cross,

in a world,

forever lost?

What are dollars to a horse?

What are needles without thread?

What are tears without our grief?

What are Bibles to the dead?

Our ears must hear.

Our eyes must see.

Beyond the graves

our faith must be.

His loving grace,

forever pours -

draws walking faith,

to Heaven's doors.

Words are pathways,

nothing more.

There's Someone we

must cry out for.

©2011 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/ 

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Will We Learn? 6-28-09

As wars break out, hurt innocent,
through torture, hate and lie.
To see these deaths, it saddens me -
and words are hard to come by....

When schools teach our children
that God we can deny -
with morals low, it saddens me -
and words are hard to come by....

When churches want to compromise,
compassioned speech supply -
When truth is dead, it saddens me -
and words are hard to come by....

When parents through their anger
will see their children cry.
This child abuse so saddens me -
and words are hard to come by....

When judges, with our documents,
our wants, through law imply -
abortion deaths, they sadden me -
and words are hard to come by....

Oh, sin on earth grows daily -
hate escalates so high.
When sinful actions sadden me -
the words are hard to come by....

Point your finger, pass the buck.
Actions speak - so hear them cry.
Their louder voices sadden me,
and words are hard to come by....

So if you must - accuse me quick -
if truth refuse to buy.
Oh, will we learn on judgment day -
that words are hard to come by...?

2009 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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Poet's Prayer 2-27-09

"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.

Because of Your grace and through faith I believe,
You're the Great Poet and me You don't leave.
You live deep within, so I'll faithfully write -
for the greatest of poems come deep from the heart.

©2009 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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Mother 10-8-08

Words describe so many things,
one beside another;
and words explain so very much
but can’t describe my mother.

If a picture’s worth a thousand words -
each word, a pound of letters;
then mother surpasses sunsets,
and pounds of gold from debtors.

She’s worth a million smiles,
she carries many scars;
her worth, a million rainbows,
her value exceeds stars.

Yes, mother is quite different -
and the only one I get.
And I'm the one she could afford.
I love her quite a bit.

So what explains my mother?
What’s in my vast report?
And what describes my mother when,
ALL my words fall short?

We shared so many memories,
our hearts shared many years;
so what describes my mother is -
the love inside my tears....

©2008 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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Proverbs 31:(KJV)
10"Who can find a virtuous woman? for her price is far above rubies.
11The heart of her husband doth safely trust in her, so that he shall have no need of spoil.
12She will do him good and not evil all the days of her life.
13She seeketh wool, and flax, and worketh willingly with her hands.
14She is like the merchants' ships; she bringeth her food from afar.
15She riseth also while it is yet night, and giveth meat to her household, and a portion to her maidens.
16She considereth a field, and buyeth it: with the fruit of her hands she planteth a vineyard.
17She girdeth her loins with strength, and strengtheneth her arms.
18She perceiveth that her merchandise is good: her candle goeth not out by night.
19She layeth her hands to the spindle, and her hands hold the distaff.
20She stretcheth out her hand to the poor; yea, she reacheth forth her hands to the needy.
21She is not afraid of the snow for her household: for all her household are clothed with scarlet.
22She maketh herself coverings of tapestry; her clothing is silk and purple.
23Her husband is known in the gates, when he sitteth among the elders of the land.
24She maketh fine linen, and selleth it; and delivereth girdles unto the merchant.
25Strength and honour are her clothing; and she shall rejoice in time to come.
26She openeth her mouth with wisdom; and in her tongue is the law of kindness.
27She looketh well to the ways of her household, and eateth not the bread of idleness.
28Her children arise up, and call her blessed; her husband also, and he praiseth her.
29Many daughters have done virtuously, but thou excellest them all.
30Favour is deceitful, and beauty is vain: but a woman that feareth the LORD, she shall be praised."

The Answer 9-20-07

.
The dictionary's filled with words,
Not one defines the singing birds.
Is God too wise to answer?

As wind blows past my stressed out face.
No peace unwinds my rapid pace.
Is God too slow to answer?

And when I act - in such disgrace,
No honest act will close the case.
Is God too hurt to answer?

My broken heart - I can't replace.
No love explains His precious grace.
Is God too great to answer?

My pain's great. Like a shattered vase,
No glue can mend without a trace.
Is God too sad to answer?

As tears run down my wrinkled face.
Words dissolve - without a trace.
Is God too far to answer?

Should I invoke, what I want done -
Though God Himself has not begun?
Is God too late to answer?

Is God too big? Am I unseen?
Or do I shake up God's routine?
Is God too dazed to answer?

Does He care for everyone?
The very old and very young?
Does God relay the answer?

Protecting sparrows all year long,
God answers prayers our whole lifelong.
Might pride not hear the answer?

©2007 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
ganderpoems.org

Job 35:11-13 (NASB)
11Who teaches us more than the beasts of the earth
And makes us wiser than the birds of the heavens?'
12"There they cry out, but He does not answer
Because of the pride of evil men.
13"Surely God will not listen to an empty cry,
Nor will the Almighty regard it.

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Walk The Talk 3-22-07

Love is a tough word for men made of steel.
Some cannot say it - despite how they feel.
And way down inside, you'll find at the core,
that few love much higher than ostriches soar.

Some utter their love in flowers and smiles.
There are many words and so many styles.
Some share their feelings with tears in one eye,
while others share thoughts in endless supply....

Talk is so shallow - it's easier said,
than walking the talk, and giving instead.
When we're confronted with our simple trials,
do we drag our cross - and for how many miles?

A cross is a menace that scoffs in our ear.
We wish every time it would just disappear;
but if our love's real - and fills us inside,
A cross surely conquers when we are denied.

For there was a Man that lived long ago,
who gave so much more - than we'll ever know.
He shared with the children, women and men,
and taught us all how - to love once again

There was no record of “fanciful” talk,
but rather, instead, of unselfish walk.
While prayers were sincere to His Father above,
mere words didn't finish His dutiful love.

He spoke not a word - defending His own,
and faithfully walked each step all alone.
We can't imagine the pain He endured,
and from the soldiers, the scoffing He heard.

Mere words were spoken and all had seemed lost,
but actions spoke louder than two timbers crossed.
For love didn't lose to the cross in that war -
-because Jesus yet lives and that cross is no more.

©2007 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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