Tuesday, December 19, 2017

Now That Is Peace 12-19-17


Small snowflakes float on easy breeze -
without an effort, find the trees.
Now that is peace.

They rest upon the solid branch,
upon the roof of humble ranch.
Now that is peace.

They settle on a rail fence
without a thought, without suspense.
Now that is peace.

They blanket softly, all around,
upon the leaves upon the ground.
Now that is peace.

The Christmas snow reflects all light
from its decor with such delight.
Now that is peace.

More snowflakes settle.  They're unheard -
as Heaven speaks without a word.
Now that is peace.

The stars above, they sparkle too -
a gift from God, to me, to you.
Now that is peace.

Without the pomp and circumstance,
the scenic beauty is romance.
Now that is peace.

A babe in manger once was born -
without the fanfare, without horn.
Now that is peace.

Through virgin love, through virgin birth -
A blanket grace for all on earth.
Now that is peace. 

So why this blanket when it snows?
So why this gift?  The Christian knows.
Now that is peace.

©2017 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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Saturday, December 9, 2017

But Grace 12-9-17


When I think back at my whole life that I have spent on earth -
and when I think of all the wrong that I have done since birth -
for selfishly I'd done my will.
My life was all for me.
I wonder how God loves me still
and wants me to be free?

I failed my spouse, I failed my kids, I failed my screaming boss,
I failed my ever patient God - and also, too, the cross.
I wonder why He sent His Son,
I lied and lied and lied.
I selfishly had been just one -
one reason that He died.

But God is patient, more than I.  He's waited many years -
for me to find that faithfulness, for me to come to tears.
I wonder why He loves me still.
I wonder why He cares.
I need that mustard seed to grow.
Does He not hear my prayers?

And pray, can I, a sinner's prayer?  What right have I to pray?
What right have I to anything with life in disarray?
But grace is mine and that's because
mere works do not suffice.
I have no right, but Jesus does -
because He paid the price.

©2017 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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Friday, November 24, 2017

That Distant Light 11-24-17


The air was calm below the palm
so rested, I awhile.
I stared across the quiet lake
with my own lazy smile.

The sun had set and I had let
the time just slip away.
I lost myself among my thoughts
and it had seemed okay.

Reflections though, had taught me so.
There's something you should know -
how they reflect the real thing
in fascinating show.

There's no delight in distant light
where nothing misbehaves -
But watch those sparkles dancing on
the tops of rippled waves.

That shimmer see, will always be
from light across the lake.
That dancing drew attention from
the light that isn't fake.

Half-way across the lake they tossed.
They glittered brilliantly.
Deceiving, long reflections as
that light shone silently.

I liked the show - reflection's glow -
and there was nothing feared.
But when that distant light turned off,
reflections disappeared.

Was I deceived?  Did I believe
that distant light, God's Son?
Or focused I, on rituals -
merely the reflection?

©2017 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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Friday, November 17, 2017

The Covered Bridge 11-17-17


Still washing o'er and 'round the rocks,
the splashing rapids pass the fox.
They pass the beavers before dawn.
They pass the doe.  In time, the fawn.

The chipmunks work.  The 'possums too.
The river flows past me and you.
Time doesn't stop.  It knows not how
with covered bridge before us now.

The water moves, the river flows.
God makes it so.  That's how it goes.
The bridge we walk is like our birth -
A fresh red coat for what it's worth.

Like ol' homestead, the bridge is red,
but it seems brighter here instead.
Enjoying travels, springtime views -
no other roadway, we would choose.

The hewn-cut logs are under foot.
And all our faith in God, we put.
Each step we take, we hear the boards.
Experiences bring rewards.

Then walking past the eight by eights,
a calendar of days and dates,
they hold the roof that keeps us dry -
like summer rains as we pass by.

Then near the end, the autumn air -
brings me to tears to know we're there.
Life seems so fast- like rushing dream -
like splashing rapids of the stream.

As she steps off, I see her go.
Yet she's in Heaven.  That I know.
I pause some here as I recall -
our great relationship and all...

Those times together I still see -
forever always, her and me.
Love and devotion, God gave both.
Remember well, our Christian growth.

I see her bright and smiling face.
My mem'ries hold, as her embrace.
I hear her voice - fresh as the breeze.
Her songbirds echo still from trees.

The bridge, now old, weathered a bit.
And soon, we too, will step from it.
A moment's pause.  I see them too.
These colored leaves are much like you.

A blanket, soft of powdered snow -
will come one day - and this I know -
will cover road and cover bridge,
cover trees and winter's ridge.

The sunset's bright.  I see the moon.
So please be patient - see you soon.
The things of earth just keep changing -
but never God.  He's amazing.

Still washing o'er and 'round the rocks,
the splashing rapids pass the fox.
They pass the beavers before dawn.
They pass the doe.  In time, the fawn.

©2017 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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Saturday, October 14, 2017

Last Duckling, The 10-14-17



Free will expressed in God's likeness
and formed in wonder's love.
With utmost care, He made me there,
at home in Heav'n above.

But after birth right here on earth
it wasn't really fair.
They all made fun of waddled run
and no one seemed to care.

There was no drake out on the lake,
but breeze was cool and fine.
Mother struggling, seven duckling -
with me, the last in line.

Sometimes my feet could not compete -
so I would lag behind.
But she would wait- me motivate -
for she was patient, kind.

Then peril sent an accident.
My legs went nearly lame.
They laughed again at my chagrin
and slower, I became.

In Godly way, my mom would pray.
She loved me even more.
With lots of skill and her big bill,
she'd nudge me up on shore.

And there I'd praise the sunshine's rays
next to my mother's charm.
And always there, my mom would care
protecting me from harm.

Through many jobs I'd hear her sobs.
She had the biggest heart.
I must attest, she was the best
'til death pulled us apart.

As time goes by I often cry.
It's sad to swim alone.
The only love that I knew of
was what my mom had shown.

I am not strong. I have done wrong.
I was the least of sev'n.
Lord, call me back.  Please call me back.
Please call me back to Heav'n.

©2017 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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Saturday, October 7, 2017

And Colors Each 10-7-17


Do we know with His rainbow, there's life among the trees?
What message comes from God above through autumn's colored leaves?

Does a willow display YELLOW just to send a small alarm -
to caution us from danger so we're free from Satan's harm?

Does the bright glow of the ORANGE show a way to raise our spirits?
Down through the years, does wisdom claim we shouldn't call it quits?

And does the RED mean Jesus bled to save us from our sin -
that we would turn our life around and be born once again?

Do the GOLDEN leaves embolden us to face another day?
Our golden years are not to waste, but live in Godly way.

And does the GREEN that's still between all us and many others -
prove that God still gives us life among the many colors?

Please understand God's faithful and His great creation thrives.
He paints, each fall, a masterpiece and colors each our lives.

©2017 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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Saturday, September 30, 2017

Kitchen War 9-30-17


Discussions were beginning in the kitchen fraught with hate -
and anger soon was spreading with the "who was best" debate.

"I'm protein for the people," said the big roast to the greens.
"I[m so much, much better than potatoes, corn and beans."

"Without my oven you are absolutely nothing around here,"
said the stove so loudly so that all the rest could hear.

Close by was some oregano, paprika and some clove.
"Oh, do not boast for you are but an old and rusted stove. 

Said the sea salt to the spices, "Here's some good advice.
If you can't add some flavor,  you're no better than the rice."

Said the white rice to the sea salt, "Let me say a thing or two.
The spices have a million times more flavor than you do.

The fridge could not stay silent and the toaster now was hot.
Disposal?  It was spinning while the blender had forgot.

And that is how it started as the food began to fly.
Please tell me why there's no respect.  Please tell me, tell me why.

From floor to wall to ceiling, there was food stuck everywhere.
And you could even see the peas come bouncing down the stair.

The bragging had continued and the sink began to boast!
Then gravy splashed the window...and the fork had stabbed the roast!

The big 'ol roast let out a acream.  "I'm dying!" was his yell.
It rolled right off the table and on the floor it fell.

The hush was so immediate and no one said a word.
No sound was heard except from one small window perching bird.

Hysterically, it laughed and laughed.  I thought it'd blow its cork.
And then we all had seen it too - that cheap weak plastic fork.

The laughter had crescendoed and it filled that messy room.
But then who had to clean it up?  The dustpan and the broom.

Not one had learned a lesson and not one humility.
They still each think they are the best.  That's how they'll always be -

UNLESS they all repent and learn of God's most precious Son.
ONLY THEN can  we have peace for each and everyone.

Until then we will be at odds.  Until then we will fight.
Until then we will be at war - and world a messy sight.

©2017 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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Saturday, September 23, 2017

God's Little Paradise 9-23-17


Between the path and lake I sit.  The weather sure is nice.
Creation here continues in God's little paradise.

I shut my eyes and listen to the dried up autumn leaves
that dance upon the pathway with the swirling twirling breeze.

I listen to the splattering of waves upon the shore.
I soak up sounds around me and I wait to hear some more.

A squirrel hesitates a bit, then races up a tree.
With eyes still shut I see it all and find it fully free.

I hear the wind.  I hear His voice.  I hear the angels sing.
I take in all that Heaven has.  I treasure everything.

I hear a frog and chirping birds.  I hear a quacking duck.
And far away a jingle from a roaming ice cream truck.

The grasses whisper tunes of old to leaves still on the trees.
My heart cries out for little ones, the least...  the least of these.

For God so loved the world that He gave His only Son...
If I could only pass His love to each and everyone...

If I could only find the words to close all nation's eyes -
then maybe they could see Him too with spirit-piercing eyes.

If only faithful they could be, so they could see His face.
If only I could find the words so they could see this place.

With eyes still shut, I reminisce of all that God has giv'n.
My friends, our days on earth are short and after this a Heaven.

Between the lake and path I sit.  The weather sure is nice.
Creation here continues in God's little paradise.

©2017 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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Sunday, August 27, 2017

Forgive Me Please 8-27-17


If you're in earshot of my voice
Regret, I do, my ev'ry choice
that brought you pain and brought you tears.
Forgive me please, for all these years.

I toss and turn here on my bed.
Forgive me please, for all I've said.
Deserve I nothing - that I know -
for damage done so long ago.

I lost your faithful selfless love
and caused you hurt I know not of.
I broke so many of God's laws.
I weep at pain my sins have caused.

Your face reveals a giant hole
that I put in your heart and soul.
Your innocence, may God observe.
Forgiveness I do not deserve.

If time could slow... if time could stall...
if time reversed... I'd change it all.
For things I've done, there's no excuse.
And healing, I cannot produce.

BUT GOD can make the crooked straight,
wipe tears away and then create.
Please talk to Him and don't conceal
your heavy heart that needs to heal.

If you're in earshot of my voice
Regret, I do, my ev'ry choice
that brought you pain and brought you tears.
Forgive me please, for all these years.

©2017 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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Sunday, August 20, 2017

This Unknown Man 8-20-17


This man, unknown, still walks alone
among the villainous -
among the thorns and wild horns,
inside our wilderness.
Day after day in dark dismay
the years tread slowly by.
Night after night, who knows his plight -
who knows the truth of 'why'?

So far above, the clouds lack love
for such a lowly man.
They give advice and are not nice
as they are better than...
The waters called and are appalled
at what this man had done.
And from the deep, they make a leap -
accused this lowly one.

But trees are friends and off they fend
the blizzards that blow bold -
and warmth from rock will always mock
the wind and  bitter cold.
Yet sharp the fangs of hunger pangs,
for food is scarce at best.
Though so deprived, can he survive
this all-important test?

He won't complain in all his pain
and so, is not ashamed -
for trees all stand so quiet and
they too, remain unnamed.
From scorching heat, they are not beat.
They brave the elements.
They do not cry.  They do not die
despite impediments.

If in review, you only knew
what all that he withstood -
while making peace with trout and geese,
then lived the best he could.
I understand this unknown man -
as you might guess the clues.
Each step by step with him I kept -
for I walk in his shoes.

©2017 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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Friday, July 21, 2017

Where All Time Stands Still 7-21-17


I found myself in desperate hope -
I couldn't sing, I couldn't cope
with city's noise that so annoys
and racing time as sin destroys.

Among the city's working slave
and the great ocean's pounding wave,
the time slipped past and flowed so fast.
I prayed for peace - that it would last.

I'd often pray while I would dream
of peaceful life beside a stream -
where acorns drop from high atop
the tallest trees - where time would stop.

Alarmingly high from rocky ledge -
through prayer I found the river's edge.
But there were graves in ocean caves
where men sought shelter from the waves.

I climbed down from my lofty pride
where many stumbled, many died.
In danger, pled I, humble cry
that I should live and never die.

Confessing I, reached deep within
repenting of my ev'ry sin.
And when I found that solid ground,
the grasses, green, were all around.

For all the beauty I did thank
my God along that river bank.
In answered prayer, without a care -
through faithfulness, I found Him there.

And then upstream, a path I took
along a creek, then bubbling brook.
Continued I, to walk on by
all other things that caught my eye.

The water clear, refreshing, clean
was prettier than ever seen.
As if possessed, I couldn't rest -
so feet pressed on.  I was His guest.

Beside His living, bubbling spring.
I found my voice and I can sing.
It is so sweet.  It is complete.
All time stands still with no repeat.

I tarry there in peaceful prayer.
I'm in His arms and do not care
for futile lies and futile cries
of man's deceptions as he dies.

His living spring of water lives!
It never takes - but always gives.
I sought His will and found the thrill
of living where all time stands still.

©2017 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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Saturday, June 17, 2017

If Teardrop You Can't Be 6-17-17


I was one drop of water with so many, many more,
here falling from the Heavens under great big thunderous roar.

The massive lake below me was so very long and wide.
It seemed that I was dropping near the shore on eastern side.

I saw a pitter-pattering of raindrops on the lake.
I wondered when my time would come - how big of splash I'd make.

But then God sent a burst of wind that blew me over land -
I thought how futile life would be, if sank I, into sand.

As I descended, there appeared a flat, but massive stone.
I saw a little boy in tears, there sitting all alone.

I'd rather be a tear, I thought, than droplet from the sky -
for I'll accomplished little.  Oh, what little worth have I?

A raindrop's life is very short.  Accomplishments are few.
In fact, I'd be ecstatic if I was a teardrop too.

I'd care for him and show him I was patient, kind and meek.
I'd live my life right there with him residing on his cheek.

But God had other plans for me inside that noisy cloud -
and so I fell quite fast and free with others in the crowd.

I've learned some things in my short life.  Please lend me all, your ear.
Please do not cry and do not fight and do not ever fear.

Please don't be so discouraged if you're added to the sea.
Just be content to do God's will if teardrop you can't be.

So very few, are special ones.  So very few, are God's.
And sometimes we can't cope with it and so we are at odds.

I hit so hard, that massive stone.  I splattered all around.
But part of me had met those tears and it was quite profound.

Our friendships seem to be God's will - though very short the years.
The teardrops we have met through storms now bring us loving tears.

One friendship, in particular - how very short, it was -
brought ringing rhymes and chiming words.  I know you know, because...

©2017 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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Saturday, June 3, 2017

What Is It? (Riddle) 6-3-17


Tell me.  What is it?
It doesn't weigh a thing.
You cannot find it in the sky.
It doesn't have a wing.
It has no legs.  It has no hands.
It doesn't have a brain.
But sometimes it just rips you up
and drives you most insane!

Tell me.  What is it?
It doesn't weigh a thing.
You cannot find it in the sea.
It has no mouth to sing.
It has no ears.  It has no eyes.
And please don't ask me why
it sometimes makes you teary-eyed
and makes you want to cry.

Tell me.  What is it?
It doesn't weigh a thing.
You cannot find it over land
but oh, what it can bring -
contentment, joy and happiness,
excitement unsurpassed.
And when it comes from God on high,
we know we have been blessed!

Tell me. What is it?
It's something int'resting.
It makes me want to shout for joy
and makes me want to sing!
It doesn't take.  It always gives -
like sunshine's warmth on chilly day
when kindness bring's the flower's bloom -
which makes LOVE's big and bright bouquet!

©2017 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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Saturday, May 20, 2017

Rainbow-colored Dreams 5-20-17


I chase my rainbow-colored dreams.
They are so grandiose it seems -
until the brilliance goes awry
and colors of the rainbow die.

When I was younger I was told
that I'd be better off when old -
if I would always persevere -
not give up and never fear.

So worked, I did, both day and night.
I gave it all - my fiercest fight.
For over forty years 'til now
the sweat poured off my heavy brow.

The fam'ly loss was inhumane.
The millions lost was bankers' gain.
"Success" was sketched out vividly -
but yet this nightmare came to me.

First Timothy, six and ten,
is proven true again, again.
If love of money's in the heart,
then love for God is torn apart.

Until the brilliance goes awry
and colors of the rainbow die,
I chase my rainbow-colored dreams.
They are so grandiose it seems...

©2017 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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Saturday, May 13, 2017

This Mother's Day 5-13-17


Mere words are insufficient.
Mere words cannot express -
the many tossed emotions
of pain to happiness.

I long to see your face again -
though we are far apart.
I long to hold your hand again
and give you all my heart.

At first I held my feelings back
for which I can't explain.
So now emotions come alive
as with a hurricane!

For I am here and you are there.
There's no where I can turn.
There are no hugs and kisses past
that point of no return.

Oh, how I pray that I could make
my failures up to you.
Yet lost through winds of futile hope,
there's nothing I can do.

Mere time deceives the lazy heart
and says, "It's not a crime -
to wait until the rain has stopped,
then take your good ol' time."

So time has slipped away from me.
So many things it stole.
The greatest?  Not expressing love...
That sorrow rips my soul.

All Heaven knows my mom is there -
so friends, do not delay.
Give any lonely mom you find,
your love this Mother's Day.

©2017 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
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Saturday, April 22, 2017

Rose-petal Mother 4-22-17


The morning dew settles
like tears on rose petals.
They cry out for time to return -
and beckon lost seasons
of God-given reasons
as sad notes on my guitar yearn.

You're queen of the givers.
It brings to me shivers
that I was so selfishly made.
Your name defines 'humble'
as my words now crumble
on flowers that I now invade.

Your hands were like Heaven,
unselfishly given,
beyond just the people you knew -
from city to country,
from wealthy to hungry -
and all of the rest of us too.

As butterflies flutter,
I still try to utter
some truth of your beautiful love.
But now, it is just us -
and words don't bring justice
as sunlight spills down from above.

Those simple deflections
of sunlight's reflections
now glimmer like diamonds at play -
in memories briefly
that I see routinely
as if they were just yesterday.

I am not deserving
of all I'm observing
in memories coming to mind -
surrounded by perfume
with roses in full bloom
recalling that you were most kind.

I'll always remember
that freezing December
when I erred and brought you to tears.
When you found me straying,
for me, you were praying -
and over the many long years.

Some mothers are brand new,
but none can compare to
my rose-petal mother, that's true.
While laughter was looming,
our smiles were blooming.
There's none other better than you.

I do so adore you -
shall always continue.
I'd never trade you for another.
Up deep from the earth-plow,
what words can I sing now?
I love you, my rose-petal mother.

Alive still, your caring,
through rose petal sharing.
So many, I can't see them all.
Afloat on the breezes,
each rose petal eases
the pain of the weak as they fall.

Your petals continue
to live on without you.
They float around ever so free.
Like soft downy feather,
I don't wonder whether
some petals will fall upon me.

It's not at all easy
to sing thoughts so deeply
when sung with my dusty guitar.
I find I've distorted
all good you're recorded.
My rose-petal mother, you are.

And it's not by my choice
I miss hearing your voice,
so moistness now covers my eyes.
With fingers still strumming
I hear myself humming
while words get choked up in my cries.

With eyes very blurry
I'm now in no hurry
to vacate this most sacred place.
I can't be more lonely.
I wish I could only
receive one more loving embrace.

I love you so deeply
that when I am sleepy
see rose petals filling the sky.
My rose-petal mother,
my rose-petal mother,
I'll see you in Heaven...  Bye bye.

©2017 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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Monday, April 17, 2017

Mister Dirt 4-17-17


At times abused
but always used -
so does he disapprove?
I should have known
he's left alone.
Himself, he cannot move.

He cannot walk.
He cannot talk.
It seems he is entrapped.
No working ear,
he cannot hear.
Could he be handicapped?

One might deduce
he's of no use
and futile is his time.
And I can tell
he cannot smell.
So poor, he has no dime.

Is he distressed?
Is he depressed?
His life seems very grim.
His name is 'Dirt'.
Should he not hurt
when we're ignoring him?

We pull his weeds
and plant some seeds -
then use the garden hose.
And with a flood
he turns to mud
as everybody knows.

When rain has poured,
we thank the Lord,
that food has filled our room -
then thank the sun
for what its done
when flowers are full bloom.

But how we hide
the dirt outside -
though we don't think we're mean.
Who understands
when washing hands
that we judge Dirt unclean?

We think we know
but wrath will show
when we are judged by God.
Who thanks that soil
for all its toil
when manicured our sod?

No one will thank
the Dirt's low rank.
We entertain with fun!
But Dirt, who cares
with your affairs
and work that you have done?

Can we not sit
and think a bit
of someone we have hurt?
Don't build a wall.
Please thank them all -
including Mister Dirt.

Apologize.
It's always wise
for we've all wronged someone.
Let's live in peace.
Let judgment cease
for God's work isn't done.

©2017 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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Wednesday, April 12, 2017

Passed Quietly, the Waters By 4-12-17


The river stones were gathered 'round.
Their speeches and their words profound.
They thought they were the best on earth -
had much more value, much more worth.

Passed quietly, the waters by.
Most stones just laughed and wondered why...

The rugged stones had bragged aloud
below a soft and puffy cloud,
"We're mean and tough and really cool.
We are the best but you're a fool."

Passed quietly, the waters by.
Most stones just laughed and wondered why...

"Huge trees?  No match for guys like us!
You cannot answer nor discuss.
Our claims of greatness can't be beat.
This is our club - the great elite."

Passed quietly, the waters by.
Most stones just laughed and wondered why...

A tiger laid on rocky ledge
and peered below to river's edge.
The river stones looked way up there.
They were not scared.  They didn't care.

Passed quietly, the waters by.
Most stones just laughed and wondered why...

They laughed at the moon and at the sun.
They laughed until the day was done.
They laughed at all that they could see.
They even laughed at you and me.

Passed quietly, the waters by.
Most stones just laughed and wondered why...

One year they gasped and looked around.
The change in them was quite profound.
The years brought change that none could soothe.
Those stones were now, not rough, but smooth.

Passed quietly, the waters by.
Most stones just laughed and wondered why...

Most hadn't known just what took place.
Not many learned of God's good grace.
That it was His undying love
that showered down from up above,
that brought the rainbow and the rain,
that flowed downstream to ease the pain
of each and ev'ry hard, rough stone
so they might learn and might atone.

Passed quietly, the waters by.
Most stones just laughed and wondered why...

©2017 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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Friday, April 7, 2017

Give Us Barabbas! 4-7-17


What caught the attention of that obtuse crowd?
What made them determined?  What made them so loud?
"Give us Barabbas!"  Can you tell me why
the people had int'rest in that evil guy?

Was he more exciting and spectacular?
Was he their big hero - strong, muscular?
Could he break big log chains right off of his wrists?
And did he boast laughing- then shake both his fists?
Was his voice like thunder with tongue hard as steel?
Oh, was the crowd taken and how did they feel?

Was it because Jesus stood motionless there?
Was it because Jesus did not have a prayer?
Was Jesus too loving t'ward innocent youth,
Was Jesus judgmental in speaking the truth?
Was Jesus too caring with his healing hands -
or was it because He had much greater plans?

There's no rhyme or reason, so often it seems.
It boggles the mind to such endless extremes.
So why did the crowd have Barabbas set free?
And why was it Jesus who died... and not me?

©2017 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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Friday, March 31, 2017

Forgiveness Undeserved 3-31-17


I don't deserve forgiveness and
I don't deserve His love.
I don't deserve His blessings that
He showers from above.

My greatest deeds have missed His mark.
My works were just my will.
My life appears so very dark.
Guilt haunts me even still.

Except for Jesus on the cross,
except for loving grace,
except forgiveness undeserved -
a hope?  No, not a trace.

©2017 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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Monday, March 20, 2017

My Beautiful Friend 3-20-17


Oh, why do you tease me, my beautiful friend?
Oh, why do you keep me 'at bay'?
I try and I try to get closer to you,
but you keep on moving away!

I cannot get closer, the more that I walk.
You keep a safe distance from me.
But please do not think that I'm someone to fear.
Just trust me that I'll keep you free.

The colors you wear seem to weaken my knees.
Your beauty I do not deserve.
Your brilliance continues to draw me to you,
so why do you throw me this curve?

Yes, God had created a beautiful 'you'.
You light up my life like the sky.
He keeps all His infinite promises too,
but don't ask me - I don't know why.

I can't get around and I can't get beneath -
yet you are beyond grandiose.
I know no one ever has touched you before,
and I can't begin to get close.

Although I can't touch you or hear what you say,
maybe apart, we aren't far..
And though you don't let me get closer to you,
a beautiful rainbow you are!

©2017 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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Saturday, March 11, 2017

As I Wandered 3-11-17


No, it was not a fairy tale.
I happened on a bloody trail
where groove in dirt had pushed aside the stone.
I walked awhile, then I could tell
by scattered stones that someone fell
while other prints had proved him not alone.

As I wandered,
I wondered.

The sky was dark because of clouds.
but from a distance, I saw crowds.
The screaming that I heard brought me a chill.
Continued I, to walk a spell,
and then I saw it, saw it well -
three silhouetted crosses on the hill.

As I wandered,
I wondered.

Upon the crosses were three men.
I heard loud screams again, again.
I closer got- as this all seemed so odd...
The one between the other two
had uttered prayer- and then I knew
that He indeed was the true Son of God.

As I wandered,
I wondered.

He screamed to Father, breathed His last.
The earth had quaked with such a blast.
For words, I was completely at a loss.
Because my sin had put Him there,
I knew that this just wasn't fair.
It should have been me nailed to the cross.

As I wandered,
I wondered.

Yes, from a manger, virgin womb
and to a planned, but borrowed tomb,
assigned, were guards, each minute of the day.
Subdued and saddened, few had spoke -
but then I heard that Christ awoke -
and I had seen the stone was rolled away!

As I wandered,
I wondered.

An angel of the Lord I saw.
My jaw had dropped.  I stood in awe
and knew that I was standing deep in sin.
So I gave Jesus everything -
for He arose and now I sing!
Through precious grace, He's coming back again!

I wonder,
but don't wander any more.

©2017 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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Saturday, February 25, 2017

He Showers Me 2-25-17

Jamestown Flood Aftermath 1889

A promise is forever
but words so quickly fade.
They echo once or twice but then
are lost under the shade -
of long abandoned good intents
from where I've long since strayed.

Oh, how can I live sincere life
when failed I, this exam?
Oh, how can I live honest life
when it is but a sham?
And how can promise now be kept
with water over dam?

Embarrassed I, now drop my head
ashamed to show my face.
And guilty I, cry out in vain
that I am in this place.
But then, what does my Savior do?
He showers me with grace!

©2017 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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Friday, February 3, 2017

A Lonely Poem 2-3-17


THERE ARE so many others that can start a loud stampede
of people running after them so that they all can read
the script of rhymes that fascinate their scrutinizing minds
to entertain emotions - emotions of all kinds.

But I am just a lonely poem buried here inside
a dusty book unsuited and unable to provide
a morsel of excitement to those readers I can't see.
They're browsing here, undoubtedly, on either side of me.

My words are like a dried up rose with bent and broken stem -
and that's why I'm a lonely poem, unlike the rest of them.
It's dark inside this dusty book.  Forever, I will stay -
yet wonder, will I ever see the sunny light of day?

Rejected, I'm compelled to cry, but that I can't condone,
because my ink would surely run and I'd still be alone.
So tears I hold.  I'm saddened so- and oh, I'd love to shout.
But I'll be stuck here up until this book I'm in's thrown out.

I prayed that you would find my words because God answers prayers.
He knows my good intentions and I know He always cares.
So when my prayers are answered and you read my story rhymes,
I pray that we can just be friends and have some good ol' times.

And though you will not see me smile, please know that I'll be glad.
and pray one day we'll find these times the best we've ever had.
But if, by chance, another poem's your fav'rite one instead,
I pray my words go with you when again I go unread.

©2017 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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Saturday, January 21, 2017

Lonely 1-21-17


Except for chirping bird or two
it's quiet in the park.
I hear my feet move through the grass
and soon it will be dark.

The air is calm and quiet here
and everything seems tame,
but world has turned me up-side-down
and nothing is the same.

Elusive is the rainbow's end.
My feet are much too slow.
And lost forever are the smiles
of friends so long ago.

My hands can't catch what finds my nose,
and empty they are still.
They cannot catch the fragrance of
an outdoor charcoal grille.

I cannot grasp the beautiful,
the clouds, so cottony.
And children who play much too loud
but such a sight to see.

My fingers cannot seem to touch
the treasures in my mind.
It seems they're much too feeble now
to touch what once had rhymed.

My arms are weak and cannot wrap
around the ocean's roar,
and lost are thoughtful special hugs.
My children are no more.

My legs can't seem to carry me.
My body's on the brink.
But my mind's like the sharpest tack -
and I can surely think.

Now if you'd listen for a bit,
I'd love so much to share,
but loneliness shares memory
of which you're unaware.

Because you like to socialize,
you laugh your days away -
and that way you don't have to live
a single lonely day.

I wonder if you only care
about your happenings -
the drama you create each day
and other petty things.

Forgive me for my selfishness,
I should have thought things through.
I'm sorry that I speak of that
instead of only you.

Except for chirping bird or two
it's lonely in the park.
I hear my feet move through the grass
and soon it will be dark.

©2017 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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Sunday, January 1, 2017

Ball Of Fuzz 1-1-17



I stared in vain through window pane
as I was on my own.
And lonely I, would sometimes cry
as I sat here alone.

The wind was wild and snow had piled
up high on window sill.
Yet I was warm despite the storm,
despite infrequent chill.

My eyes in blur, saw something stir.
I raced outside to see.
It was a sight.  I held it tight
and said, "You're safe with me."

So cold she was.  I know because
she shivered for an hour.
Sad eyes were blue and hungry too.
She drank, though milk was sour.

Then trusting she, laid down on me -
curled tightly in my lap.
So soft her fur and quiet purr.
She took a prolonged nap.

As seasons came, she was the same -
so tame, so loving, swell.
And so it was, I know because
my mem-ry serves me well.

She was a friend right to the end
and trusting as could be.
Though snow had blown, the sun once shone
on ball of fuzz and me.

I stare in vain through window pane.
Again, I'm on my own.
And lonely I, will sometimes cry
as I sit here alone.

©2017 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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