Saturday, September 22, 2018

That Special Boy 9-22-18


This poem's for that little boy
who I met in the store;
just helping grandma groc'ry shop
as he had done before.

This poem's for that patient boy.
While we began to chat;
attentively he listened too.
I was impressed with that.

This poem's for that quiet boy -
a little hard to gauge;
polite and rev'rent standing there,
mature for his young age.

This poem's for that humble boy
who's good and never sways,
who knows what's right and knows what's wrong,
who faithfully obeys.

This poem's for that precious boy
who grandma deeply loves;
there standing by her wheelchair
who she was speaking of.

This poem's for that pauper boy
whose grandma nodded "yes" -
when offered I, a loving sum.
She smiled and said "God bless".

This poem's for that speechless boy.
I turned to walk away
before the tears flowed from my eyes.
Then I began to pray.

This poem's for that special boy
I'll never see again;
but faithfully still pray for him...
before I say "Amen".

©2018 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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Sunday, September 16, 2018

It's Irrefutable! 9-16-18


I may be very quiet
and gentler than a lamb -
but I'm a rose unopened
and just a bud, I am.
So therefore, you're loved more than me
'cause I'm not beautiful.
It's so unfair, unfair to me!
It's irrefutable!
---
I may be very quiet
and gentler than a lamb.
But now you see me open.
So beautiful, I am.
It is quite fair, quite fair to me
'cause I am beautiful.
Now I am loved much more than you.
It's irrefutable!
---
I may be very quiet
and gentler than a lamb -
but now I'm old and wilted,
ugly again, I am.
It's so unfair, unfair to me
'cause I'm not beautiful.
Once more you're loved much more than me!
It's irrefutable!
---
I may be very quiet
and gentler than a lamb -
but I'm a rose that's guilty.
Repenting now, I am.
It's so unfair, unfair to God.
It's He who's beautiful!
For I'm the one who blamed my God!
It's irrefutable!

©2018 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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Saturday, August 18, 2018

Oh To Be A Butterfly 8-18-18


Oh to be a butterfly.
Cocoon would pave the way.
Arise, I would, from dark of death
to see the light of day.

Oh to be a butterfly -
to rise above the dead,
to spread my multi-colored wings
of orange, green, blue and red.

Oh to be a butterfly
with brilliant-colored wing,
that I would stretch and open wide -
and I could beauty bring.

Oh to be a butterfly
whose wings bring ne'er a sound.
reflecting brightly in the sun -
the prettiest around.

Oh to be a butterfly,
to float on easy breeze,
and softly drift to other fields
where flowers meet the bees.

Oh to be a butterfly
upon a little hill
and set atop a milkweed plant
where I'd be resting still.

Oh to be a butterfly,
to never worry why -
the oceans depths seem much too deep
or clouds seem much too high.

Oh to be a butterfly,
creation's grand rebirth -
inside of God's great masterpiece
and handiwork on Earth.

Oh to be a butterfly
in flight and fully free -
and then to be in peace again
at rest on Jesus' knee.

Oh to be a butterfly
emerging from cocoon,
unfolding vibrant colors bright
on Sunday afternoon.

©2018 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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Friday, August 3, 2018

Walkin' On Water 8-3-18


Floatin' on water, lightning's flash!
Floatin' on water, raindrops splash.
Floatin' on water, pouring rain!
Walkin' on water?  So insane.

Floatin' on water, leave my boat?
Floatin' on water.  Will it float?
Floatin' on water, don't capsize!
Walkin' on water is unwise!

Floatin' on water here hiding.
Floatin' on water deciding.
Floatin' on water hearing voice.
Walkin' on water is a choice.

Floatin' on water in the storm.
Walkin' on water's not the norm.
Floatin' on water still in fear?
Walkin' on water, volunteer?

Floatin' on water, who succumbs?
Walkin' on water, Jesus comes!
Floatin' on water, Jesus see -
walkin' on water calming sea.

Floatin' on water, no more waves.
Walkin' on water, Jesus saves!
Floatin' on water does enslave!
Walkin' on water's not your grave!

Walkin' on water?  Can't conceive?
Walkin' on water?  Just believe!
Walkin' on water, I am too!
Walkin' on water, how 'bout you?

©2018 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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Friday, July 13, 2018

A Beautiful Rose 7-13-18


My love still continues to bloom like the rose -
for roses are lovely as everyone knows.
My heart strings keep humming like strumming guitar.
She's perfect as nature and finer by far -
than rose most exquisite, than rose without thorn,
than crisp, cooling air near a lake in the morn,
than cottony clouds floating high with great ease,
than soft meadow grasses.  She is more than these.

But memories trample as conscience awakes.
It's then I'm reminded of all my mistakes.
Regrets, I have many.  They give me great pain.
They pelt me like hail and they drive me insane.
If only the future could remake the past,
where I could relive it much diff'rent than cast -
in stone where it's buried and cannot breakout,
I'd free it most quickly and change it, no doubt.

For pain's overwhelming when past can't reverse.
From pit in my stomach, it couldn't be worse.
Though Jesus can heal all the greatest of pains -
He won't let it happen if I'm locked with chains
in guilt-ridden prison where I can't accept
forgiveness from actions when I was inept.
Grace breaks ev'ry chain so that I can't destroy
this beautiful rose of unspeakable joy.

If God could change hist'ry, if God made it so,
I'd treat her much diff'rent and clearly would know
that God's grace is priceless and made for such love
for all still in waiting and not there above.
Because she's not with me, there isn't a cure,
so pain grows beyond all that I can endure.
I'm sorry I hurt you and this I must share -
while Heaven awaits you, you're in ev'ry prayer.

So love still continues to bloom like the rose -
for roses are lovely as everyone knows.
My heart strings keep humming like strumming guitar.
She's perfect as nature and finer by far -
than rose most exquisite, than rose without thorn,
than crisp, cooling air near a lake in the morn,
than cottony clouds floating high with great ease,
than soft meadow grasses.  She is more than these.

©2018 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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Saturday, July 7, 2018

My Cheap & Paltry Skies 7-7-18


While I was thinking I was good,
in church while singing hymn -
my Lord was getting tortured so,
as they were whipping Him.

While boss was just not being fair
and I held righteous wrath -
my precious Lord lugged heavy cross
barefoot on stony path.

While I was wishing for a house
and dreaming how it'd be -
my Lord was tied and nailed tight
to hard and rugged tree.

While I stared at the deep blue sea
then wanted boat instead -
my Lord endured more agony
by thorns forced on His head.

While I had found a car for sale,
a nice and perfect ride -
my Lord cried out in gruesome pain
long hours before He died.

While in anticipated dreams,
a playoff game begins.
My Lord, though, wasn't in the game,
but took away my sins.

While I was taking selfies here
and holding high, my phone -
the people thought they buried Him
behind one heavy stone.

I'm now regretting sinful ways,
collapsing in my cries.
My Lord has paid and rose above
my cheap and paltry skies.

©2018 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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Sunday, July 1, 2018

Tell Me Why (2) 7-1-18


What charms my heart to butterflies?
What charms my heart to fly?
What charms my heart to loudly sing?
And can you tell me why?

What lures me to the water's edge?
What lures me to the lie?
What lures me to the ocean's depth?
And can you tell me why?

What makes a son do crazy things?
What makes a mom to die?
What makes a father distant so?
And can you tell me why?

What draws me to the pastures green?
What draws me to the sky?
What draws me to His loving arms?
And can you tell me why?

What drives my soul to worship Him?
What drives my eyes to cry?
What drives my love to do His will?
Please, can you tell me why?

What pulls my thoughts to greater thoughts?
What pulls emotions nigh?
What pulls my soul so Heavenward?
Now can you tell me why?

©2018 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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Saturday, June 23, 2018

If I Were Jesus 6-23-18


Here's something we might think about
and something to discuss -
if born, we were, in Zero Year
and grew up as Jesus...
---
If I were Jesus would I heal
the blind so they could see?
Or would I joke when stumbled they
and would I laughing be?

If I were Jesus would I heal
a crippled, withered hand?
Or would I buy some sandals new
and brand new clothes demand?

If I were Jesus would I feed
five thousand; fish and bread?
Or would I scold them, call them fools
and stuff myself instead?

If I were Jesus would I pray
for each and every one?
Or would I brag and boast a lot
of all that I had done?

If I were Jesus would I die
on cross set up for me?
Or would I show them who I was
and walk away painfree?

If I were Jesus would I rise
to Heaven up above?
Or would I store up treasures here
because I money love?

If I were Jesus would I care
for people still today?
Or would I care for only me?
What would I do and say?

©2018 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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Saturday, June 9, 2018

The Lion & God's Nature 6-9-18


The Lion and God's nature seemed to be at odds one day.
Was it all depressing?  First, the lion had his say...
---
"I hate the freezing morning!
I just shiver by the river!
I am so depressed."
The river's flow was somewhat slow.
Back its whisper, it was chipper,
"I am ever blessed."

The Lion roared, "My stomach needs
a meal with some appeal!
I am so depressed."
One little hare seemed not to care.
Through the meadow was the echo,
"I am ever blessed."

The Lion roared, "The sun is up and it's so hot!
I'm sweating and I'm thirsting!
I am so depressed."
A little chick with outstretched wing was heard to always sing,
"It's so adoring, sunshine's warming.
I am ever blessed."

The Lion roared, "This rocky ledge has windy edge!
Insufferable, I'm uncomfortable!
I am so depressed."
Sung through the leaves with autumn's breeze,
 though not with word, the Willow's heard,
"I am ever blessed..."

Then finally the Lion roared,
"Again I frown.  The sun is down!
Though rain is done, it wasn't fun!
I am so depressed."
But painted twilight sky was bright
in rainbow's hallowed spectrum's glow.
"I am ever blessed."
---
The Lion and God's nature seemed to be at odds that day.
Was it all a blessing?  Lastly, nature had its say.

©2018 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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Saturday, May 12, 2018

At Weakest Point 5-12-18


My precious little children
grew up so very fast.
Oh, why does time keep fighting me
and stealing all my past?
My little girl was precious,
a vibrant little flower.
So why has time come to a stop -
in this, my darkest hour?

My photos and mementos
have faded very fast.
Oh, why does time keep fighting me
and stealing all my past?
My keepsakes, lost forever,
have turned my stomach sour.
So why has time come to a stop -
in this, my darkest hour?

I worked hard for my family.
I built my business fast.
Oh, why does time keep fighting me
and stealing all my past?
My business, lost forever
and gone, my tallest tower.
So why has time come to a stop -
in this, my darkest hour?

All is gone and all is lost.
My life is fading fast.
Oh, why does time keep fighting me
and stealing all my past?
In fetal pose, you watch me now.
I fear, I shake, I cower.
So why has time come to a stop -
in this my darkest hour?

I find myself afloat on tears
that flow so very fast -
ignoring God who could have been
in all my sorry past.
At weakest point, He lifts me now
with His creative power!
And now I know why time has stopped -
in this, God's finest hour.

©2018 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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