The Great Poet 7-30-14

Oh, God is the great poet,

the universe of rhymes.

With perfect balance- all His stars

yet speak in these dark times.

Our Great Creator perfectly

sets worlds with his dictate -

while man discovers one small speck

then thinks that he is great.

He boasts of all his theories

and brags of every gain,

but can't interpret simple things -

or gravity explain.

He sits atop his buildings.

He peers down his long nose,

but topples with confusing words -

for that is how it goes.

Oh, God is the great poet -

the universe of rhymes.

With perfect balance- all His stars

yet speak in these dark times.

©2014 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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Pretend 7-1-14

Pretending as I have since birth

right up to now, today -

those fun and selfish things I've spun

to get things my own way.

Well, I would always cry and whine

if I was not chastised -

and tantrums were my specialty

if wants weren't realized.

As teens, my friends and I would joke.

We'd smoke a cigarette.

We sometimes laughed at other folk,

without the least regret.

The beer I drank had proved me cool.

the drugs, to get me high.

Abortion took a precious life -

deception's selfish lie.

Yet at the top of my own list

were comforts by the score...

from better cars to bigger homes

and oh, so much, much more.

I thought about how good I was -

and things that I deserved.

I bragged about the good I'd done

and all the folks I'd served.

I slammed the door on all those things

I'd just as soon forget -

but stubborn guilt had gripped me so

and hadn't left me yet.

Convince myself, I still do try

and fool my closest friend -

but Heaven, though, cannot be fooled

and God does not pretend.

(author's note: I did not smoke, drink or do drugs)

©2014 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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Good and Faithful Friends 6-26-14

No words adorned the papers here.  So full, the ink well was.

The quill had waited silently.  The reason?  Well, because.

The poems that this poet writes are few and far between -

and many are the paper sheets with rhyming yet unseen.

The window sash was raised a bit allowing breezes in -

that brought to life my little desk and stirred my thoughts within.

A wisp of air caught paper's edge and seemed to make it say,

"Oh, please don't sit there all alone.  Let's write of God today."

The puff of breeze caught feathered quill and drew some ink up too.

God's spirit seized my timid hand and started something new.

The soft, round curved calligraphy brought energetic drive

to everything inside that room and all had came alive.

His Word brings life to everything - but only if it's read.

for into us, God breathes His truth.  Without Him, all is dead.

God's spirit moves the dust of earth and draws us to His light.

His Word begins to stir us up.  His spirit makes us write.

God gives us paper, quill and ink and all the truth He sends -

for He has given to us all, these good and faithful friends.

©2014 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http:/www.ganderpoems.org/

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Irises, The 6-10-14

I look out of my window.

I'm not at all sure why.

The breezes make some flowers dance.

The movement draws my eye.

So beautiful, the flowers.

Succeeded, mom's green thumb.

I'm pulled back now to life's bright light,

this dark world kept me from.

She aided God's tremendous works

right here where I can see -

the white and purple miracles

that stand triumphantly.

And how the irises have bloomed

without mom being there!

For she had worked so diligent -

the ground, with loving care.

My mem'ry sketches her at work

still pulling ev'ry weed -

and then she watered carefully,

to fill their ev'ry need.

The beauty of the bloom today

was not an easy chore -

and not her efforts from last week,

but work from years before.

The bright and vivid iris bloom

is still alive today.

Mom drew God's great creation out...

before she passed away.

No, she's not here to see them now -

these stately iris flowers -

but she taught me that faithfulness

will bloom creation's powers...

©2014 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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A Dried & Fragile Flower 5-24-14

A dried and fragile flower, I -

hold close to broken heart

that cries in fervent, heavy tears

so Godly peace would start.

It's from my mama's funeral.

Yes, dried, completely dead -

and though it's fragile, I hold close

...to what she always said.

---

"So many people want to bloom

and live life their own way -

While stems are often hidden, they

support the whole bouquet.

"Beware of pride's deception!

That's what the Bible warns

in Obadiah One, verse three.

Be careful with those thorns.

"Not one small single flower blooms

without the narrow stem -

so treat folks how you'd like to be -

be treated back by them.

"Affect the different colored rose -

and do not them, reject.

Remember, a good Christian has

deep love and great respect."

Now everybody loved my mom -

'cause she loved everyone.

Though poor, was always giving more -

as if she'd just begun.

And mom was very patient too.

For years she went without.

Yet joy was heard in all her prayers.

With that, there was no doubt.

Her words were like this flower here.

And I had always tried -

to comprehend her fragile words

she left before she died.

---

A dried and fragile flower, I -

hold close to broken heart

that cries in fervent, heavy tears

so Godly peace would start.

It's from my mama's funeral.

Yes, dried, completely dead -

and though it's fragile, I hold close

...to what she always said.

©2014 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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Obadiah 1:3 (NASB)

"The arrogance of your heart has deceived you,

You who live in the clefts of the rock,

In the loftiness of your dwelling place,

Who say in your heart, 'Who will bring me down to earth?'"