Thursday, March 5, 2015

Wish the Fish 03 (contentment) 3-5-15


ONCE upon a splashing time
a little fish wished he could rhyme.
But 'Wish the Fish' lived in the sea
and brought so much calamity.
---
Wish wasn't mean and wasn't bad -
but wanted things that others' had.
So Wish the Fish was not content.
He had no money.  Not one cent.

And to his mother, he would fuss.
His friend's things made him envious.
Content, he wasn't, (without toys).
He longed to be "one of the boys"

Now his best friend was 'Big Mouth Bass'
He bragged a lot and he was crass.
And Wish the Fish was very sad
when he saw what his best friend had.

So then Wish asked of his best friend,
"Could you, to me, some money lend?"
How Wish's eyes got larger when
his friend pulled out a big green 'ten'.

But after getting his new game,
our Wish the Fish was not the same.
He told his mom it was routine
to stare at a computer screen.

Mom said one day, "Go pay it back
or I'll unplug the power pack."
But after working many times,
Wish only made a mere two dimes.

"Nine dollars, eighty cents to go."
Wish learned a lesson most don't know -
that money, on trees, doesn't grow.
It's wrong to borrow lots of dough.

Our 'wants' will always make demand.
Wish learned that very lesson and
confessed he did, then repented,
paid it back, became contented.
---
The moral of this poem's great,
if this world would love, not hate
contentment!

©2015 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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Wish the Fish (introduced in story 01)
Big Mouth Bass (introduced in story 03)

Friday, February 27, 2015

Wish the Fish 02 (chores) 2-27-15


ONCE upon a splashing time
a little fish wished he could rhyme.
But 'Wish the Fish' lived in the sea
and brought so much calamity.
---
One day mom said, "Now do your chores.
I've done all mine.  Now you do yours.
Go make your bed, then get your broom
and sweep the seashells from your room."

Well, this made Wish the Fish quite sad.
He wondered if his friends all had.
And then he thought, "Hmm, could I take
a little swim, a little break?"

So careful not to stir the sand,
Wish swam right out his window and
off to his friend's, he took a look,
then saw a juicy worm on hook...

It dangled down in front of him.
It seemed so small and awfully slim.
But Wish was hungry.  He would eat
and took a bite which was so sweet...

But oh, the yank that pulled him out!
The hook had hurt!  Wish tried to shout.
"What happened here?" himself, he asked.
It all had happened very fast.

Wish flopped around there on the sand
before he knew what happened and
his gills were hurting from the air.
Wish flopped some more.  Did no one care?

And there he lay to his dismay.
Wish wished he hadn't swam away.
Oh, how he wished he had obeyed -
so on the sand, at last, he prayed...

Now Wish the Fish, could not be found.
His mom had searched and searched.  She frowned.
She was perplexed.  She was afraid.
And then, at last, she also prayed...

Oh, Wish the Fish would soon be dead
if hadn't been for this instead:
He heard a lower bass voice call,
"Just throw it back!  It's way too small!"

No longer bound by ugly sin,
our Wish the Fish could swim again!
He swam straight home - despite so weak -
hugged tight his mom and kissed her cheek.
---
The moral of this poem's great,
if this world would love, not hate
their chores!

©2015 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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Wish the Fish (introduced in story 01)

Thursday, February 26, 2015

Wish the Fish 01 (mom's advice) 2-26-15


ONCE upon a splashing time
a little fish wished he could rhyme.
But 'Wish the Fish' lived in the sea
and brought so much calamity.
---
Now Wish was just a little fish,
Blue, red, yellow - oh, and greenish.
He loved his mom 'cause she was nice
but sometimes gave too much advice.

Wish thought, so crude, the meals she stewed.
They tasted more like people food.
But mom said, "Eat.  Eat ev'ry bean."
Just eat until your plate is clean."

Now mom's advice to clean his plate
was wrong, Wish thought.  He seldom ate.
(He'd take his fork, scrape off her cookin' -
then hid it when she wasn't lookin').

So no, Wish didn't eat too much
until his hunger pangs were such
he gobbled down his candy bars
and emptied all mom's cookie jars.

The next day, ohhh, the stomach ache!
And then mom offered cream and cake.
Wish turned her down, not once, but twice
and wished he'd taken her advice.
---
The moral of this poem's great,
if this world would love, not hate:
mom's advice!

©2015 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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Monday, February 23, 2015

God's Sparrow 2-23-15


My mother? I miss her. You don't know how much
with hugs, warm and loving, with her gentle touch.
And father, not perfect, had sure done his best.
Together, in Heaven, they in His arms rest.
---
Interpreting thoughts that were mine with my weeping,
on wee branch up high, a young sparrow was keeping.
With sharp and loud chirping, I felt ever small.
It ripped me to pieces when I heard it all.

Then, when it had finished, it flew out of sight -
and it left a message, quite brutal, but right -
when I heard, "You're fake - a great imitator,
forgiven by God, your Maker, Creator."

My eyes had welled up with tears of repentance -
with close fam'ly ties and those times of remembrance.
Though precious, the mem'ries I wouldn't exchange,
those days were but hist'ry that I couldn't change.

It sure got me thinking. Oh, how could it be,
I thought not of others - but only of me?
Those years have all passed and are not coming back.
They shook up my heart like a massive attack.

I now see the world and sparrow in tree -
and even myself now so dif-fer-ent-ly.
Priorities changed now that I've been set straight
by that little, lone sparrow I started to hate.

But I thank God's sparrow that perched in the tree,
which brutally, honestly uncovered me -
exposing my selfishness, failures and sin.
Repentant, forgiven, I'll see them again.

©2015 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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Thursday, February 19, 2015

Tulips and Roses 2-19-15


Right under our noses
are tulips and roses.
There's no place that I'd rather be.
And if you come hither
you'll find they won't wither
for God surely loves you and me.

A rainbow of colors
are splattered on flowers
that all of creation can see.
And when they're a-blooming,
exquisite perfuming
enhances His paintings for me.

The world won't believe Him,
far out on their tree limb.
Opinions are having their say.
They make me so dizzy
because they're so busy
and can't find eternity's way.

I know you would rather
join with me and gather
up armfuls of rainbow's bouquets -
and inside His painting
enjoy His creating
the rest of eternity's days.

So join me and jump in
to painting, born again,
where flowering landscapes are true.
Here living with respect
is Heavenly perfect
in vibrant and colorful hue.

Right under our noses
are tulips and roses.
There's no place that I'd rather be.
And if you come hither
you'll find they won't wither
for God really loves you and me,
for God really loves you and me.

©2015 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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I Corinthians 13:13 (NASB)
"...but the greatest of these is love."

Monday, February 16, 2015

As Darkness Falls 2-16-15


The sun's at rest
upon the west -
as lighted pathway fades.
Today I'm lost, so what's the cost for all my sick charades?

The bottom line:
Decisions?  Mine,
though future couldn't see.
I ventured off the straight and narrow pathway meant for me.

I can''t embark.
It's awful dark.
Time spurns to take me back.
Oh, how had I been led astray by winding pathways black?

Some say that no
one's perfect so,
"it doesn't matter much".
But that's not what the Savior said with cross and thorns and such.

He suffered there
in anguish where
His love could cover men -
and faithfully had paid my debt upon that cross of sin.

On grieving face
was matchless grace
so I could be set free -
but stubbornly I trod my long and winding path... for me.

Now here I stand
as owls land.
Life skates along its way.
I'm lonely, very lonely here a-midst my final day.

So what's the cost?
Today, I'm lost.
I've had so many fears.
The darkness falls.  'Forever' calls.  My pathway disappears.

©2015 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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Matthew 24: 10-13 (NASB)
10 At that time many will fall away and will betray one another and hate one another.
11 Many false prophets will arise and will mislead many.
12 Because lawlessness is increased, most people’s love will grow cold.
13 But the one who endures to the end, he will be saved.

Friday, February 13, 2015

Intentionally Left Blank 2-13-15


I look through all my papers.
I search but cannot find.
Exploring notes and all my files,
I hunt my absent mind.

But I can't find them anywhere.
I seek throughout the day.
I cannot sleep as stars come out
Have I something to say?

I'd like to write of God above
and all His majesty.
Unless I take the time to pray,
those words will never be.

But I can't find the words to use.
Thoughts pierce me like a knife.
My life could be much better if
pure words rhymed with my life.

Escapes me, too, the letters
that float away on streams,
winding through the rapids fast,
that disappear with dreams.

Oh, how can rhyming phrases flow
and sentences galore -
when I can't find mere letters here?
My phrases come no more.

If only I could find them...
the words, so you could know 'em,
then I could write the stanzas down
in one breathtaking poem.

Instead, I search inside myself.
With absent prayers, my words -
just float away on rivers or
are carried off with birds...

So here I sit with naught to say,
so let me just be frank.
Who'd care to read another line?
(intentionally left blank)

©2015 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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