NOTE: I thank those who have spread the word of my site. I do not spend money advertising. I do not ask for money. My poems are free so that even the poorest of the poor can be comforted with my poetry. I am pleased when others are blessed. No amount of money can surpass that. I am now blessed with about 10,000 page views per month and my prayer is that through my poetry, that this world can become a safer, more loving and respectful place - that those who do not know who Jesus really was (and still is), will come to know the peace, healing, sacrifice and grace He has given to those who truly believe in Him and faithfully follow. I pray that you enjoy my story poems...

February 11, 2007

Works 2-11-07

I'm so weary I can't stand
to fight it anymore.
My face - I bury in my hands.
I fall flat on the floor.

All truthfulness is in Your court.
My arguments all fail.
I work hard but fall so short -
touching your Holy Grail.

I worked my fingers to the bone.
You did not grant my wish.
And without water on flat stones,
I flop just like a fish.

I tried to earn it, sun to sun.
My tasks would not apply.
A tear, from every job I'd done,
I caused there in Your eye.

Tasks that came I did not shun.
In fact, I didn't brag,
but every work that I had done -
was but a filthy rag.

Sometimes I thought I felt that crown,
and pulled myself way up,
but as I looked, I had to frown,
I could not hold Your cup.

I fasted, sacrificed some more,
and lay in massive pain.
My clothes I tore. I lost the war,
my works were all in vain.

So now I weep, fall on my face
in desperation, misery....
and on the ground I take my place
and cry my prayer to thee....

"Our Father who art in Heaven,
God of grace and mercy,
You knew this soul was lost back when,
I fell so far from thee....

Your love melts the coldest ice,
You're always in control.
You sent the perfect sacrifice
so save this poor lambs soul.

Dear Shepherd, You are very strong.
Help me - I'm am weak.
For years I've been so very wrong.
I'm humbled. Hear me speak....

Forgive me Lord, for thinking I
could work my way to You.
You knew back then - I couldn't buy,
the work You came to do.

My sins, my work will not erase.
My life, I cannot gloss.
And all my work will not replace,
Your grace there on the cross."

©2007 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED


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