My main site can be seen at www.ganderpoems.org Thank you! Enjoy! ~louis

Thursday, June 28, 2012

Hopelessly Helpless? 6-28-12


I woke up from sleeping and found myself eating
a piece of old barley bread.
While feeding on breakfast, I thought it most unjust
that yours was a warm one instead.

Though willow branch bends, it cannot make amends
to a place that I'm sitting between.
A rock and a hard place that's hopeless to face -
and torment, the greatest I've seen.

My great sacrifice just wouldn't suffice.
These shoes that I wear aren't by choice.
"We can't refinance" was the bank's 'song and dance'
but who would hear my little voice?

Despite life-long effort, they're selling me short,
my business at such a great cost.
The bank never spared because they hadn't cared,
hence millions of dollars were lost.

So don't store up treasures for everyday pleasures,
in things of this earth that will rust.
The great love of money has never been funny,
for only in God should we trust.

It's so disconcerting my children are hurting,
yet hopelessly helpless I am.
Despite expectations to pay obligations,
I now can't help any of them.

I sit in the shade of these problems they made.
This willow tree weeps with me too.
The moral of story is not really gory
if we've learned a lesson or two.

Those decades of years bring me sad lonely tears
for they took everything that I had.
But what greater loss - than was Christ's on the cross?
I maybe don't have it so bad.

©2012 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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Thursday, June 21, 2012

Evergreen Hope 6-21-12


Spectacular wonder, the view way out yonder,
from high on this mountain slope.
God's vast great creation brings glad adoration
to Jesus who offers us hope.

From just one small seed, a potential indeed,
once crushed, by mistake, underfoot.
I whispered a prayer and stepped over where
another small sapling took root.

And on that rock shelf I thought to myself,
"Oh, how can that seedling be grown,
up here where it toils in dry rocky soils,
in midst of more turmoils not known?"

Then over the years through blizzards and fears
rose doubts that had made me take pause,
"It sure hadn't thrived but had it survived?
Had it overcome nature's laws?"

Now several years later I found something greater
when I returned back to that tree.
I had to admire, it soared so much higher,
and grew so much taller than me.

It once had been crushed, but now I am hushed,
and humbled at what God had done.
One tiny example of something we trample
brings life from the tomb of His Son!

A long time ago under hail and snow,
despite its long discord and strife,
its tap root enlocked way down deep in a rock
that faithfully brought it to life!

Oh, why can't I be like that evergreen tree,
that grew up so high in the sky?
The greenest of green that I've ever seen,
oh tell me Lord, why cannot I?

Spectacular wonder, the view way out yonder,
from high on this mountain slope.
God's vast great creation brings glad adoration
to Jesus who offers me hope.

©2012 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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Tuesday, June 12, 2012

The Sparrow 6-12-12


A hawk soared high
with hungry eye
for hour after hour.
At times it'd stop
above rooftop,
above the belfry tower.

There it would perch
above this church,
atop the highest tree.
It's Satan's way,
to seek the prey -
for something greedily.

That hawk would plunge,
swoop down and lunge
to seize a tasty meal.
I thought it odd,
so prayed, "Dear God,"
and knew the threat was real.

A sparrow sensed
the danger hence,
and needed quick, to fly.
Through broken glass
I saw, alas,
that sparrow fly right by.

Now safe inside,
it sought to hide.
This room it flew across.
What was in store
was answered for,
below the unlit cross.

Though fixtures broke,
the light had spoke,
as stained glass glowed throughout.
But broken pane
caused streaks from rain,
as church was emptied out.

When sparrow see,
should follow, we,
and walk the straight and narrow;
to take refuge
from subterfuge,
with God's most precious sparrow?

If we'll return
to church and learn;
the God that grace is of;
then from all sin
there's safety in,
the shelter of His love.

I learned that day,
that come what may,
there's comfort under wing.
I know because
that sparrow does!
It sure can chirp and sing!

And so could we
if we were free
of peril from the perch.
So lets equip
in fellowship,
the filling of our church.

©2012 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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Matthew 10:31 (NASB)
So do not fear; you are more valuable than many sparrows.

Friday, June 8, 2012

Beneath His Willow Tree 6-8-12



So tell me, does God understand,
and can He really see,
a lonely widow on this bench
beneath His willow tree?

There were parents busy with,
their children running free,
but no one noticed I sat here
beneath His willow tree.

Of all the people in the park,
I thought of only me.
Could no one know my broken heart
beneath His willow tree?

My husband's recent passing adds
one more bad memory,
to all my pile of heartaches here
beneath His willow tree.

"Please take away my loneliness."
I prayed, "May sorrow flee" -
but felt a tear start rolling down,
beneath His willow tree.

I prayed for one small miracle,
just one drop from His sea -
then found a peace not felt before,
beneath His willow tree.

As Jesus kissed my tear away,
I noticed lovingly,
another weary woman rest,
beneath His willow tree.

So then she shared her loneliness.
A new friend she would be.
We talked and laughed and opened up
beneath His willow tree.

The sun came out and brightened us,
as we sipped green iced tea -
and reminisced together  here
beneath His willow tree.

So tell me, does God understand,
and can He really see,
a lonely widow on this bench
beneath His willow tree?

©2012 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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John 13:34 (NASB)
A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another,
even as I have loved you, that you also love one another.

Wednesday, June 6, 2012

Dirty Socks 6-6-12


I sweep my floor and mop it.
Before my mind's at ease,
I scrub as hard as I can scrub
down on my hands and knees.
Now don't we want a spotless house
to honor any guest?
Until my floor is sparkling clean
I cannot be at rest.

Now life is like my tile floor
that looks as though it's clean.
But take a look at my white socks
and you'll know what I mean.
We try to hide our dirty socks
whenever someone comes,
but God sees every dirty heart
and knows of all the crumbs.

Yet Jesus knocks at our heart's door.
Accept God's only Son,
who died so sacrificially
for each confessing one.
Yes, Jesus gives eternal life,
a gift that's always free-
if we give Him our dirty socks
and follow faithfully.

©2012 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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Revelation 3:20 (NASB)
Behold, I stand at the door and knock;
if anyone hears My voice and opens the door,
I will come in to him and will dine with him,
and he with Me.

Friday, June 1, 2012

This Little Country Church 6-1-12

 So picturesque, the meadow
though breezes cut with knife,
but water whispers in the brook
as valley springs to life.
So beautiful, the hillside view
of pines, red oak and birch-
but nothing is so lovely as
this little country church.

It stands so straight and steadfast,
despite these many years,
unwavered by the storms of life,
and many heartfelt tears.
The mem'ries of a time long past
hold to a grim disguise,
as visions of my long lost friends
bring sadness to my eyes.

There's not a soul in eye-sight,
yet I'm accompanied.
My Jesus walks before me.
He throws salvation's seed.
The world, indeed, still wants to change-
a sinful earthly curse
and little church, long empty now,
not better, is for worse.

The birds, though, lift my spirits.
"Have faith!" they seem to say,
as chills from early springtime winds
now dry some tears away.
So somberly, through weathered door
I step in reverently.
A greater flood of mem'ries more
now pounce all over me.

They shake my senses silly
and pelt with bruising flack.
My eyes, though, rest on walnut pews
as mem'ries pull me back.
Hey Clem, hello!  Yes, Doris too-
and all my other friends...
I stand here frozen all the while
until remembrance ends.

With congregation absent,
(deceptions made them flee),
the root of evil holds them fast -
not prayer, not faith, nor me.
My love for mankind multiplies
as springtime wakes the seed,
but this old world will never find
the Savior that they need.

Our discipline was honored.
Respect was dignified.
Oh, how will children of today
see Jesus glorified?
Setting on a folding chair,
sets still, a dusty Book
and tears well up again as I
take yet a closer look.

Stepping out, the chilly winds
condemn my presence here,
but I will surely come again
My heart will hold no fear.
So beautiful, the hillside is
of pines, red oak and birch -
but nothing is so lovely as
this little country church.

©2012 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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