Old Tattered Book 8-16-11

It always has been with me.

The Good Book, it is not.

My book is old and tattered,

and its been read a lot.

I'm very much familiar with

this ragged, weathered book -

I'll hide it not from you because,

I know you'll want to look.

My life is like an open book,

and here for all to see.

Interpret every facet there,

or read it differently.

Folks from different walks of life

have formulated ways -

to gather vast opinions and -

to scrutinize my days.

Now you may disagree with them,

or you might fall in line -

with those who do the gossiping,

and group me with the swine.

I see my 'dog-eared' corners,

the grime and stains throughout.

Forget, I would, some pages -

if I could tear them out -

because I'm very much ashamed

of sinful burdens there -

of sins that I cannot forget -

that Jesus had to bear.

And guilt, at times, still haunts me,

and though forgiveness cures,

I'm very glad you've read my book.

Now take a look at yours.

©2011 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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Matthew 7:3 (NASB)
Why do you look at the speck that is in your brother’s eye,

 but do not notice the log that is in your own eye? 

It Matters 6-3-11

Who hugs the little children,

abused and all alone -

if no one cares to look for them?

Real, but yet unknown.

Who hugs the hurting mothers,

(for many have been used) -

if no one cares to look for them?

Real, but yet abused.

Who hugs the unborn babies -

discarded in the trash?

Can life be kissed back into them -

or brought back with our cash?

So many different ways, there are -

that powerful abort -

the old, the young, the innocent,

who have their lives cut short.

The weak, the sick, the handicapped,

are also not exempt -

from those who hold lives in their hands,

below their deep contempt.

The rest of us just sit around,

as if we do not care -

but if their target's placed on us?

"Oh no, they wouldn't dare!"

Focused, if we are, on self,

then we will never see -

an end to all the violence and...

more victims there will be.

Decisions have been rendered.

The damage has been done -

though maybe not affecting us,

it matters to each one.

For God so loved the world.
He listens to our prayers.
He knows if talk is just mere words -
or if each person cares.

Vote Responsibly!

©2011 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http:/www.ganderpoems.org/

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Apron Strings 5-19-11

When I was young,

I often clung,

to many little things.

I'd reach up high,

again retie,

my mama's apron strings.

I sometimes did,

what mom forbid,

although she'd make it clear.

Thoughts still linger.

I remember,

through each fleeting year.

Acquainted still,

her stories thrill,

with many left untold.

I can't go back,

though mem-ries track,

to years I'd rather hold.

I'm lost in thought,

it can't be caught,

despite my futile search -

mama singing,

mama bringing,

this small boy to church.

Though I was touched,

and changed so much,

through Christ, the perfect One -

I cannot stay,

time slips away,

from all that she had done.

I try to grasp,

and hands I clasp,

around those many things -

but mem-ry strands,

slip through my hands -

just like those apron strings.

I miss her so.

Emotions show.

There's moistness in my eyes.

I can't withhold,

though I am old,

my oft guilt-ridden cries.

Though sometimes sad,

I'm always glad,

whenever I think of -

my mama's cares,

my mama's prayers,

and her most precious love.

©2011 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org

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A Greater Crown 9-14-09

This big old world has judged me
and here, this is what they see -
an old and crooked branch that
once had held a potpourri,
but though I want to speak up
I can only set here mute -
and now they often wonder why
I'm void of any fruit.

It matters not what others
think as they bear fruit instead -
and though they judge me mightily
and think me almost dead -
their branches, burden heavily
with fruit that makes them droop,
as they clan up together in
one big and happy group.

None have stepped into my sandals
nor has drank from my own cup,
and they haven't my experience
and do not know what's up.
So this is why they see my branch
is bare from day to day -
for every time I grow some fruit -
it's given fast away.

Sometimes I want to keep some
as I really am in need,
but there's a voice that whispers
with a wisdom true, indeed.
Rewards aren't really needed
on this land of earthly sod,
for a greater crown awaits me
from the true and living God.

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

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Matthew 13:23
"And the one on whom seed was sown on the good soil, this is the man who hears the word and understands it; who indeed bears fruit and brings forth, some a hundredfold, some sixty, and some thirty."

FREEDOM 10-08-07

We are either slave or free. There is no in-between.
Freedom is not tangible, but surely it is seen -
seen on every human face, residing in the heart -
free from any slavery - when we all do our part.

Who can be part master - or be a part time slave -
or sometimes be a little wimp - at other times be brave?
Does freedom have a light switch that we turn off and on,
or is it the foundation that this Nation’s built upon?

Let no one now deceive us - as freedom must be pure,
for if it cracks or crumbles, then slavery is sure.
And let us not be selfish, but protect both young and old -
the innocent from anywhere - marching bravely, bold.

The world forgets so quickly - one man’s deceptive lie ,
who stole the lives of millions - who wouldn't hear their cry.
Many bury deep their heads while terrorists still stalk,
but there’s no time for politics. It’s time to walk the talk.

Jesus' talk was often bold and later He was nailed.
 He 'walked' in service to the cross, but freedom had prevailed.
  Freedom from satanic grip - though wars there'll always be -


until the wars in souls end, the world can't be free.

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Innocent children, women and men continue to be enslaved, tortured and killed.

Through sacrifice, support FREEDOM for all. Through America, let's build.

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

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