The Lighthouse 3-11-12

What draws the eye to the lighthouse?

Oh say, what could it be?

Now how could a light on a mighty 'Rock'

forgive lost souls at sea?

There are no ropes to pull them in,

no maps of where to go -

and we hear cries from crashing waves -

under the beacon's glow.

Relentlessly, the wind blows -

the noise, as a million drums!

The angry sea will swallow scores,

as the weak in faith succumb.

Through rain and hail and deadly fog,

sins weather strangely mixed -

a faint, but 'Guiding Light' shines through -

if eyes are firmly fixed.

The lighthouse sounds its fog horn,

proclaiming Christ is King.

Our voices chime in harmony

as we rejoice and sing!

We find all comfort in the 'Rock'

as the faithful lighthouse calls.

It's then that storms surrender and,

receding darkness falls,

What draws the eye to the lighthouse?

Oh say, what could it be?

How can a Man on an old rugged cross,

help souls still lost at sea?

Secure in the 'Rock', we understand -

as the beacon lights the sky.

And as long as we see the halo -

forgive. "They know not why."

And tell them -

tell them if you dare!

Tell them when they're troubled.

Tell them with a prayer.

Tell them Christ is waiting.

Tell them God is fair.

Tell them Jesus loves them.

Tell them if you care.

Tell them God still loves the world.

Now go, and gospel share.

©2012 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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Log Cabin Christmas 11-11-11

You ask about this picture

that hangs here on my wall?

Many thoughts come to my mind.

I can't recall them all.

It's of our old log cabin

that stood along a stream -

nestled in a heavy woods

with weather most extreme.

The summer heat, unbearable,

preceded autumn hues -

and winter brought the heavy snow

which drooped the many yews.

Our hard work filled the wood box.

Much colder times, there'd be.

I'd follow dad's familiar tracks -

to seek a Christmas tree.

A chair set by the window,

sat I, upon the chair -

peering down our old dirt road

with grandpa not yet there.

The sunrise and the sunset

was all the clock we had -

so hours I would be on watch

with brother, mom and dad.

So patiently the snowfall

would cling to window sill.

Serene and quiet were those days -

snow blanketing each hill.

Then at last his carriage came,

bouncing up the drive.

Anticipation answered,

and Christmas came alive.

The planks beneath dad's footsteps

sounded from the floor.

He gave a pat as he walked by,

then answered our front door.

The gift that I received that day

came in a homemade box.

I opened it and once again -

long underwear and socks.

Toys were quite a rarity.

I thought it not unfair -

for on those chilly winter nights,

I didn't really care.

The fire dancing in the hearth

was better than fine art -

and love was not for brand new toys -

but rather from the heart.

The inconvenient hardships

were really not so bad.

Grandpa and my family,

were really all I had.

Sunday was our day of rest

that I enjoyed the most -

when father parked our wagon near

the church's hitching post.

Patience filled our earnest souls,

charity, the mind -

and my most precious presents now,

are memories, every kind.

We bore so many crosses

with work and suffering -

but they bound us together and,

I wouldn't change a thing.

If now an opportunity

brought back 'the good old days',

I'd trade todays conveniences

for more rewarding ways.

I don't regret my childhood.

I would not trade the years.

Now please, you must forgive me for

my sentimental tears...

Oh goodness, my - how time does fly!

It's almost half-past seven!

But stories more, you'll hear some day

when we meet up in Heaven.

So that's my picture on my wall,

reminding me of Christmas -

a world of true tranquility -

where I found love for Jesus.

©2011 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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The Castle 3-15-09

Ever see a castle, the drawbridge and moat?

Think of it this way - consider, take note....

If God is the Castle, and we're all together,

You're on the outside, in threatening weather -

If moat - full of demons - is giving you fits,

with crocodiles ready to gnash you to bits -

If you're to get safely and quickly across,

let Christ be your guide and the drawbridge, the cross.

©2009 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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The Ol' Barn 3-3-08

There was a barn once painted red
which stood on grandpa's old homestead –
and built so very long ago,
a sorry sight - I told him so.

As a boy I often wondered
why it hadn't ever timbered.
I heard the sagging rafters yawn
with half its several shingles gone.

I stepped in (the barn doors missing) -
found it home for sparrows singing.
Though the birds flew around freely
the floors were filled in man's debris.

No matter which way I'd be glancing
dust in sunlight rays were dancing.
Warning cobwebs seemed to sketch -
between the timbers they would stretch.

Foundation laid in cobblestone
but its sure footing wasn't known.
Between some stones were gaping cracks
that could not hide the basic facts.

Every post in building leaning,
wall to wall had needed cleaning.
Winter winds would whistle through.
That big ol' barn had lost, I knew.

Its sole purpose couldn't render -
so it offered full surrender.
Weather's sin had taken toll
and wind and sleet had found its soul.

That ol' barn is much like us
and in our need we make a fuss.
Our sagging souls are so uncouth
that we no longer seek the truth.

Deceit flies in our open door
and we care little anymore.
We’d rather compromise instead
as cobwebs fill our empty head.

Our minds are filled with sins' debris
with anyone whom we agree.
The love is lost between our bones
and leaves us cold, loosened stones.

Will our convictions stand together
or now yield to stormy weather?
Are we responsible inside
or has our character also died?

Over these years the time has lapsed
and long ago that barn collapsed.
Now as I look at its demise,
I listen to the worlds last cries....

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

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