"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

March 29, 2011

He So Loved 3-29-11


Each morn, another sunrise,
on this, I can rely.
A simple thing, so beautiful -
though I do not know why.

Each day, another painting,
as every cloud floats by.
A living art, so beautiful -
though I do not know why.

Each eve, another sunset,
I see the colored sky.
A special sight, so beautiful -
though I do not know why.

Each loving gift, so beautiful,
yet one still makes me cry...
that He so loved a worm as me -
though I do not know why.

©2011 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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March 20, 2011

Grocery Cart, The 3-20-11


I saw a grocery cart today,
and overflowed, it was, I'd say.
It proudly wore the biggest smile -
pushed along in latest style.

Wow!  Every type of food I saw -
from T-bone steaks to carrots, raw.
Until unto the checkout came -
it didn't seem to look the same.

Now this is what it was about -
when all the food was lifted out...
but don't we understand it still -
that God has overflowed our fill?

Unless sincere and broken are,
grace resides at farthest star.
If faith is absent, there's no grace
outside the walls of Heaven's space.

Wear humbleness and faithful be,
with fruitfulness that's as the sea -
and diligence we must maintain,
for if we're lost - life's all in vain.

And though that cart was quite a sight -
received it not, one single bite.
So don't be like that grocery cart -
that's stuffed with grace, but has no heart.

©2011 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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Hebrews 5 (NASB)
13 For everyone who partakes only of milk is not accustomed to the word of righteousness,
for he is an infant.
14 But solid food is for the mature
who because of practice have their senses trained to discern good and evil.

March 16, 2011

True Love 3-16-11


So many things in body / soul
are empty, undefined -
but read this poem carefully,
and answers you may find.

The knowledge of the Love of God,
comes through in loving stages -
so see if you can find a clue -
within this couple's ages...

.......

The couple faced each other close,
while standing toe to toe.
The clear new day was very young.
They had no place to go.

His right hand held her left hand and,
His left hand held her right.
He slid a daisy through her hair.
She was a pretty sight.

The springtime breezes did not quell
the sun's most warmest rays.
As ocean waves kept rolling in,
they held the longest gaze.

Her face was like a sunshine's glow.
Her toes sank in the sand.
Her hair flipped in the open breeze.
Her fingers squeezed his hand.

Some folks had paused and stared a bit
when softly came the kiss -
but never would a moment pass,
a moment quite like this.

And with these two, that special time
would never go away -
for faithful is that one true love.
There is no better way.

So scenic was the sandy beach,
so beautiful, the pair -
yet only God creates true love
that I saw perfect there.

.......

Now just in case you're wondering,
what ages they could be...
Well, she's but two years younger than
his age of eighty-three.

So if assumptions, you had made -
in story told above -
you may have also missed the mark,
of true Agape Love.

Therefore, question all the writings,
discovered here and there,
that often miss the God of Love -
the hearer of each prayer.

And don't have shallow notions or,
wear blinders to 'believe' -
or come to some conclusion that
some well-known 'experts' weave.

Sometimes we think we know it all,
when all the facts we weigh -
but we do not create the God
who loves us every day.

©2011 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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March 10, 2011

Hope 3-10-11


In despair,
we'll sometimes be.
At these times can we cope?
Yet always free,
if we can see
the One who offers hope.

©2011 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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February 20, 2011

To Heaven's Doors 2-20-11


What is music to the deaf?
What are rainbows to the blind?
What are shoes worn by the lame?
What mere words can so define...
a special Son,
sent to a cross,
in a world,
forever lost?

What are dollars to a horse?
What are needles without thread?
What are tears without our grief?
What are Bibles to the dead?
Our ears must hear.
Our eyes must see.
Beyond the graves
our faith must be.

His loving grace,
forever pours -
draws walking faith,
to Heaven's doors.
Words are pathways,
nothing more.
There's Someone we
must cry out for.

©2011 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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January 27, 2011

Knocks And Locks 1-23-11


How can we expect our God
to open Heaven's locks -
when we ignore His Son who stands
at our heart's door and knocks?

©2011 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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Revelation 3:19-21 (KJV)

 19As many as I love, I rebuke and chasten: be zealous therefore, and repent.
 20Behold, I stand at the door, and knock: if any man hear my voice, and open the door, I will come in to him, and will sup with him, and he with me.
 21To him that overcometh will I grant to sit with me in my throne, even as I also overcame, and am set down with my Father in his throne.

January 23, 2011

One And Only 1-23-11


One day soon we'll leave this world -
this world of wicked sin -
so where's the key to Heaven's Gate,
that we may step right in?

It isn't found in idols,
in silver, gold or wood -
It isn't found inside a prayer,
nor through intentions, good.

It isn't found in our career,
nor through some unclaimed perk -
It isn't found by our own hands,
nor through our greatest work.

It isn't found in churches,
or found inside a hymn.
It isn't found in human thoughts
nor through our newest whim.

It's not found in theology,
nor through man's greatest book.
It's found in yet another place -
...if only we would look.

God created just one key,
to fit in locks designed,
to hold the gate to Heaven shut -
and it's the one to find.

Heaven's gate accepts one key -
and it's the only one -
forged by grace and turned with faith
in His begotten Son.

Heaven's gate, forever locked
and firmly shut, will be -
unless within our heart we hold
that one and only key.

©2011 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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January 17, 2011

Joyful Tears 1-17-11


In quantities, our teardrops fall,
they drip off sorry faces -
resulting from our broken hearts.
We save them in our vases -
for yet another lofty dream -
another selfish rose.
Is anyone the wiser?
Tell me no one knows.

And here, our vases set alone,
still filled with empty dreams.
Oh, everybody has them -
it's just the way, it seems.
It's popularity for some -
for others; riches, gold.
But when it's over, said and done,
their rose is dead and cold.

The tears we shed are endless,
and from our souls drawn.
We water every selfish want -
then later wish them gone.
We hold our very special vase -
we think of only 'me' -
but rather where still waters are -
our tears of joy should be.

Do roses last forever?
There is a day they die -
then scattered are the pieces of
the heart that happened by.
Lost pieces, scattered everywhere -
forever, broken are -
and at the end of shattered dreams,
there's one eternal scar.

When in, our earthly dreams, we live,
regret is always sure -
for when we grow our selfish rose,
it simply won't endure.
I often wonder why we work,
and waste away the years -
accomplishing so little with
such lonely, painful tears.

So walk beside still waters.
Through joyful tears you'll see -
a love that never wavers and,
a grace that's always free.
And if your faith is watered
and grows from day to day -
there's really nothing more to do -
for joyful is the way!

©2011 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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January 11, 2011

The Strongest Man 1-11-11


When we are asked, "Who's stronger?"
we think so 'physical'.
We often think of Sampson -
not strength within the skull.

The strongest Man who ever lived -
had not a fist fight won -
but He had conquered challenges
and never quit 'til done.

He handled every mocking
and hateful, slimy spit.
He handled every whipping
while skin from scourging split.

Stronger was the 'weaker' Man,
who walked a lonely road.
Wearing thorns, they mocked Him and,
collapsed He, under load.

Huge nails set His hands and feet,
while teeth were tightly grit -
but never had He wavered.
He never once had quit.

Screams may echo over hills,
against the stormy skies -
but stronger is the faithful Man -
despite His painful cries.

Many brag and pound their chest -
their muscles, we can see -
but where you hear the loudest cry,
the stronger Man will be.

©2011 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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December 24, 2010

Footprints Found 12-24-10


From birth, thrown in a frightful scene,
as life unveils its scroll.
We travel to and fro until
a pathway finds our soul.
Our days are dark and dreary.
Our nights are long and cold.
But here on earth we break our trail -
until we all grow old.

...

I broke my lonely pathway.
I traveled all alone -
and it, a unique pathway -
none else had ever known.
I traveled my own pathway.
I'd everything to lose.
But no one knew my pathway and -
no one wore my shoes.

One day I happened on a trail
aside from sin and hate -
but few were drawn onto it -
so narrow and so straight.
And on it I saw footprints,
that wavered, not the least.
I followed them most carefully
though problems never ceased.

That pathway found no safety -
and I had questioned 'why?'.
I heard the growling animals.
Black vultures circled high.
A lion jumped in front of me.
I froze - my faith devoid.
My goal, career and future were
virtually destroyed.

I heard loud screams from others -
more painful shrieks and cries -
and yes, I still was frightened -
not cloaked from sin and lies.
A jungled mess of selfishness,
a shadowed woods misguided -
drove the anger ever close.
My fear had not subsided.

Yet... steady still, those footprints.
They wavered not a bit.
They never once had faltered.
That 'someone' never quit.
I stopped and rested quite awhile,
then carried on again.
Faith had urged me onward so -
to flee from evils sin.

Still wavered not, those footprints,
still spaced the same apart -
this 'Someone' had a purpose,
this 'Someone' had a heart.
They led straight to a clearing.
It was so peaceful there.
I stopped and saw a beauty, to
which nothing could compare.

My mouth fell open, as to speak.
Mere words were at a loss.
I saw those faithful footprints aim -
directly to a cross.
Then clumsily, I stumbled -
I grasped that mighty tree.
My 'little faith' reached for support,
until grace lifted me.

'Born again', I was that day,
when I was made complete.
I hugged that bloody, splintered cross -
'til back upon my feet.
And yes, my eyes were opened.
Spilt blood had left the hint.
For clearly seen in crimson was -
His faithful, final print.

...

God sees us run in circles as,
we leave prints deep in clay.
He sees our every footprint as -
we're lost along the way;
Our path is never narrow,
nor straightway Heaven-bound -
and feet are either on our paths -
or in His footprints found.

©2010 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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Matthew 7:14 (King James Version)
Because strait is the gate, and narrow is the way,
which leadeth unto life, and few there be that find it.