Twenty Third Psalm 7-15-13

"The Lord is my Shepherd"

who I will heed.

"I shall not want."

I shall not 'need'.

"He maketh me to lie down in green pastures."

He brings me peace.

I shall not want.

All burdens cease.

"He leadeth me beside the still waters."

For He calmed them.

I shall not want.

How loved I am.

"He restoreth my soul."

I now can see.

I shall not want

He graces me.

"He leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for His name's sake."

- straight and narrow.

I shall not want.

He lights shadows.

"Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil,"

I fear nothing.

I shall not want

for anything.

"For thou art with me,"

my Protector.

I shall not want.

I had before.

"Thy rod and thy staff, they comfort me,"

They soothe my soul.

I shall not want.

He's in control.

"Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of my enemies."

I shall not hate.

I shall not want.

My God is great.

"Thou anointest my head with oil, my cup runneth over,"

His blessings last.

I shall not want.

His love is vast.

"Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life;"

even in prison.

I shall not want

for Christ is risen.

"and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever."

I am in awe.

I shall not want.

Hallelujah! Hallelujah!

©2013 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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Psalm 23 King James Version (KJV)

1 The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.

2 He maketh me to lie down in green pastures:

he leadeth me beside the still waters.

3 He restoreth my soul:

he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake.

4 Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,

I will fear no evil: for thou art with me;

thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.

5 Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies:

thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over.

6 Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life:

and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever.

Who Am I? 7-14-13

One's a doctor, one's a nurse,

both are focused, both diverse.

They work hard for common good

and always did the best they could.

But who will listen to my cry?

Oh say, dear Jesus, who am I?

Now politics is quite a fight,

one is left-wing, one is right.

Deception knows each shifty smile

and bribing voters seems worthwhile.

But who will listen to my cry?

Oh say, dear Jesus, who am I?

One's in business, one is not

one's paid little, one a lot.

Now they have bills to pay, of course -

and money is a driving force.

But who will listen to my cry?

Oh say, dear Jesus, who am I?

One's a pastor, one's a priest -

one's out west and one's out east.

They're on TV with caring looks

while selling DVD's and books.

But who will listen to my cries?

Oh say, dear Jesus, who am I?

One is sick and one is broke

and one is mute when something's spoke.

Now these are me, myself and I.

"Please listen, Jesus, to my cry!

Oh, answer Jesus, if you please..."

He promptly said, "The least of these."

His words had flowed as if in rhyme,

for He had spoken one more time.

"Now when you cry but no one hears,

just pray to me.  I'll dry your tears.

For you're the branch and I'm the vine,

you bear good fruit because you're mine."

©2013 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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John 15:5 (NASB)

"I am the vine, you are the branches;

he who abides in Me and I in him, he bears much fruit,

for apart from Me you can do nothing."

Greater Blizzards Blow 7-4-13

Great men, great men, will always be -

and have since long ago -

as God creates the blizzards

and settles all the snow.

---

Great men, great men, exalt yourselves.

You win, again, again.

You've purchased by the hour -

the lives of poorer men.

Great men, great men, indulge yourselves.

You've built your castles high!

Immerse yourselves in glory as

your lesser peasants cry.

Great men, great men, reward yourselves.

Ride in your limousines.

Vacation in your travels far

and greet both kings and queens.

Great men, great men, applaud yourselves

in all that you may do -

with parties and exquisite gifts

so we're impressed with you.

Great men, great men, do you deserve

the best life has to give?

Should all your servants pamper you?

Will all your rivals live?

Great men, you may extol yourselves

but Christ's blood shall not stop...

And all the money in the world

won't buy a single drop.

And all great men will be known then,

when every servant prays...

"Forgive them Father.  They know not

the snow upon their graves."

---

So very quickly great men pass.

God's greater blizzards blow.

And where God sends the great man's soul,

eternity will know.

©2013 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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Dear IRS 6-28-13

Dear IRS:

It doesn't make sense

proving our innocence.

We're sorry for all of this fuss...

but how does it feel

pushed back on your heels -

like you've done to most all of us?

You can't get a handle

on criminal scandals.

The rules you break are your own.

Your head's in a fog.

You live 'high on the hog' -

while our children are chewing the bone.

Now who can control

all you arrogant souls?

You hide behind bulletproof glass.

You've wasted our money

and you think it's funny -

but this time you won't get a pass.

The truth you will shift

as you're 'pleading the fifth'.

Your actions stink worse than a sewer.

Your laughable lies

are now spreading like flies -

in a barnyard that's full of manure.

You trade each, your praises,

then give yourselves raises -

and now you're paid more than before!

You claim you are sorry

but sip on your chablis -

then ask for a billion bucks more!

Your image, you've wrecked.

You have lost our respect -

and if graded, you'd certainly fail.

We know you'll be whining

when you start resigning

and we throw your buttocks in jail.

If not behind bars

we will ship you to mars -

for your cesspool-ing policies stink.

Good morals are rarer -

the 'Fair Tax' is fairer -

and now you shall soon be extinct.

Sincerely,

The "Fair Tax"

©2013 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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As Breezes Blow 6-27-13

As breezes blow us out in drove,
we utter, flutter through the grove.
But smile among God's treasure trove!
---
Lightning flashes plunder under
clouds as thunder comes asunder!
God's creation has me wonder...

The pounding showers seem to cower -
devouring this fragile flower.
God's creation, massive power!

And don't forget as sunsets hit -
more storm clouds threaten as of yet.
God's creation, sopping wet.

The darkness heightens, but thereafter
sunlight brightens morning after -
as God creates a child's laughter!

The bud, the rose, the bloom of it -
then growth again, should He permit.
God's creation - so exquisite!

And from it all, great waterfalls.
Still I crawl.  My stature stalls -
as all of God's creation calls...

from two dead logs which laid across,
together nailed to form a cross.
Creation's gain brought Heaven's loss.

But garden rose of deep maroon
with monarch's flutter from cocoon -
sees virgin birth returning soon!

Oh, how all nature seems to shout,
"We tell you what it's all about!"
Creation lives - without a doubt!

Should I have known this all along?
Now tell me, "Where do I belong?"
Creation prays for Heaven's song!

And choreographed, they wave in wind -
two willows whisper standing twinned.
God's creation without end.

The nations' notions have accrued -
turned up-side-down, this world skewed.
Ever endeavor servitude.

Am I sincere and persevere
or rather simple breezes fear -
through year and year and year and year?

While every nation brings taxation -
God through faith, brings grace, salvation!
Praise Him! Sanctification!!
---
As breezes blow us out in drove,
we utter, flutter through the grove -
but smile among God's treasure trove!

©2013 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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Dad's Guitar 6-25-13

Oh, I still hear them from afar -

the strumming strings of dad's guitar.

I reminisce, my memory looms,

as I recall those Gospel tunes.

Respecting others was the rule

each week before our Sunday School

when all the children gathered 'round,

where love for God was always found.

The songs were simple, undisguised.

The children had them memorized.

With message certain, "Do not sin"

the many voices chimed right in.

The little children, guests unnamed,

all sang with voices unashamed.

They sang with all their hearts' desire

with love that raged as spreading fire.

Their simple passion met my ears

and turned emotions into tears.

Though sometimes dad would sing alone,

their smiling faces always shone.

So blessed we were to see the joy,

on every little girl and boy.

Approval came from pastor's nod

as every soul had praised our God.

I reminisce, my memory looms,

as I recall those Gospel tunes.

And I still hear them from afar -

the strumming strings of dad's guitar.

©2013 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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God's Garden Blooms! 6-12-13

My flower bed had been prepared...
With sacrificing toil -
I'd cultivated, fertilized
the rich, organic soil.
Surrounded by a picket fence,
(a short one painted white) -
it seemed to frame a picture that
was sure a pretty sight.

But absent, garden's bloom.

Though warmth came with the sunshine
and moisture with the rain -
and though I pulled out every weed,
my work was all in vain.
Now why were my vast working hours
I knew were loving deeds,
all proving to be futile -
without mere flower seeds?

Where was the garden's bloom?

"For God so loved the world, that
He gave His only Son..."
The time was past to plant the seed
to see a job well-done.
So flawless is my garden now
with seeds set in the ground -
but faith must wait for grace to touch
the heart until He's found.

Await the gardens bloom...

Then when I least expect results
I see some little sprouts -
that grow from living water as
mere souls begin to shout.
Nights' dark and patient hours end.
The day brings joyous light.
The days have grown His blessings vast -
with souls so vibrant, bright!

Now watch God's garden bloom!

From children, teens and fathers,
from grandma's faithful heart -
from every corner of the earth
watch great compassion start!
For every blooming flower proves
that grace and faith survive,
that Jesus lives within our hearts -
that God is still alive!

And oh, my soul blooms!

©2013 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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One Final Tear 6-7-13

The heart determines how they flow -

and why they come so fast -

as tears pour down in numbers from

the first to very last.

Long tears were streaming down my face -

for something bad occurred.

And though I focused on my pain -

a distant cry I heard.

Since Eden's lovely garden time,

no tear could so convey,

a love that reached all pinnacles,

as one from Jesus' day.

I sit and ponder now and then

behind my tears until -

I must accept that God knows best -

and understands me still.

Yes, Jesus knows my sorrows and -

He knows my every fear.

He knows my every burden and -

He knows my every tear.

I wonder then, of all the tears,

which rids me of my grief?

And which tear holds the answer to

my comfort, peace, relief?

Before His death, His tears were great.

He loved me through those nails...

And then one final tear was shed -

for Jesus never fails.

©2013 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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Oh, Tiny Bud 5-22-13

Oh, tiny bud here on this branch
and many more that have no chance
in this dark world that no one sees -
the lost and silent "least of these".

They're covered up by others full,
with blooming blossoms, beautiful -
that dance so freely in the wind -
but oh, they do not know they've sinned.

The 'winners' flaunt their daily lives
when pride's indulging self arrives -
ignoring young and helpless, those
with hungry gut and dirty clothes.

While all those 'winners' seem to choose
different blossoms, different hues -
the traffic, loud, goes flying by.
...Seems no one cares which makes me cry.

But time will tell on judgement day
when all their wealth will have no say.
Still, God allows both rain and mud
and nourishes this tiny bud.

Oh, tiny bud here on this branch
and many more that have no chance
in this dark world that no one sees -
the lost and silent "least of these".

©2013 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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In Melodies 5-13-13

As seagulls soar above the seas -

as busy as the honey bees -

and free of want, of any need,

light fingers float on ivory keys.

My arms reach out and grope so much

to sounds my soul seems deemed to clutch.

The music makes my soul sing out.

How eloquent- how soft the touch.

The melody I hear again.

My cheeks are soaked down to my chin -

I listen more- a hundred times!

How can I store them all within?

If I could mute out all the 'norm'

with notes so delicately warm -

so we, God's face, in them could see -

oh how, if I could so perform...

And yet the keys were touched so crisp,

that even sounds from roses lisp

had scattered petals through the sky,

that danced both to and fro in wisp.

Descending tenderly they near

and float emotions on my ear -

in melodies with eloquence -

that softly fade- then disappear...

The missing notes, God does forgive.
Instead of taking, I should give -

in love, as Jesus gave to me.
My life, like music, I must live.

(inspired by the musical talent of Mark Greer)

©2013 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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