"I want to thank all those who come from around the world and read the poetry that God has inspired me with to make the world a more pleasant and peaceful place. This site shall always be totally free for everyone with no tracking, pop-up ads & videos or other distractions." ~louis gander

December 11, 2014

Harold & Steve 12-11-14


Out hanging, two icicles born on an eve.
Now one was named Harold; the other one, Steve.
Well, Harold was jealous and you would be too
for Steve had an awesome, spectacular view.

But hanging 'round corner, ten shingles or so,
was poor, lonely Harold and wouldn't you know -
that Harold, if his, would have made different plans.
Instead he was stuck over two garbage cans.

The stench and the odor was too much to bear
while Steve was out front there enjoying fresh air.
Oh, fair? It was not and it made Harold mad,
so angry, despondent, depressed and so sad.

And wouldn't you know that Steve had grown quicker,
had grown so much stronger, bigger and thicker.
But Harold was just a wee bit of a thing -
not much to look at and not interesting.

You know, children grow up, but icicles down
and Harold grew lower with saddest of frown.
And that is why Steve had made fun of his friend.
His bullying never, seemed never to end.

He gloated that he was too solid to break.
He boasted that he could see sunsets, the lake.
And this had gone on through the long winter days
but Harold, one day changed his sad lonely ways.

He sang Christmas hymns of when Jesus was born;
continued it non-stop each ev'ning 'til morn.
So Steve, you might guess, was a bit envious.
Bewildered he was, that Harold was joyous.

Though droplets of water, off Harold, would splash
on top of that putrid and stinky old trash -
dear Harold accepted the life that God gave him -
no matter how boring or troubled or grim.

He knew that God's love was unprecedented
and that made him happy, joyous, contented.
Then one day, dear Harold, had heard a loud splat -
and he never heard from ol' Steve after that.
---
The moral to poem here simply increases -
each time you hear bullies are falling to pieces.
Someone please tell me if this life has mattered,
when our hopes are lost and our goals are shattered.

And Harold, you ask? What has happened to him?
Well, he was still singing an old gospel hymn,
as angels had seen him and anxiously stated,
"All Heaven rejoice! He evaporated."

©2014 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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