"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

February 22, 2013

My Dearest Friends 2-22-13

The stars come out to welcome me.  The sun had set so fast.
I need to live a simple life, forgetting evil's past.
Here, I'm at peace with all my friends - at this, my Alma mater.
A seagull swoops so ever low.  Its wingtip kisses water.

True friends have such a special way of understanding word -
though swaying branches speak to me in language never heard.
But I can understand them all, for I've been here before.
So lonely are the busy ones who only hear the shore.

The moon looks down with saddened frown.  I sense it's message there,
"We love it when you visit us.  We really, truly care."
But even so, I soon must go.  Much stronger is the breeze.
It's whisper lingers, "Do not go.  Stay longer, if you please."

Each time I leave I don't forget the many loving ways
they're etched into my mem'ry like the sunset's brilliant rays -
that showered down around me as a rainbow's vivid views
and lit up like a halo that enhanced all nature's hues.

Between my obligations, torn - decisions I regret -
then say, the leaves there in the trees, "Please do not leave us yet."
And say, the little waves on shore (as they splash near my feet),
"To have you here, to talk to us, is such a real treat."

So I respond in loving kind, "God made you so divine!
You'll always be my sincere friends.  The pleasure is all mine!
"I so enjoy our favorite talks and I, great wonders, see.
So rich, our time together is.  I love your company."

Reflecting off the water's waves, the lights from distant shore -
still seem to make me want to stay and talk a little more.
Yet like the sun, I now must run.  The sky is turning black.
They may not know I love them so, but I'll be coming back.

Just one more time, I soak it in.  God always makes it right.
"I'll miss you all, my dearest friends- and bid you all Good night!"
I turn to take a final glance before I walk away.
I hesitate, a tear slips down.  There'll be another day.

©2013 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED


February 18, 2013

Secret Admirer 2-18-13

(from a woman's perspective...)

Damp were the petals, kissed by the dew,
on bright, vibrant rose held up for my view -
from soft velvet fingers and unweathered skin
from one faithful heart full of true love within.

The rose was exquisite, so perfect to see -
with petals now open so beau-ti-ful-ly.
It seemed to rest easy on leaves of bright green -
(if now, you could only imagine the scene).

Behind that great gift was another one too -
who whispered poetically, "Oh, how I love you!"
It floated from voice so familiar to me
that stopped my whole world - instantly, briefly.

He caught me off-guard and I must concede
that inside his heart was a great love indeed.
For behind his raised fist, so patient and mild -
I saw the cute face of my very own child.

Reached, I there down - and speaking in prose,
I said, "Thank you child." accepting the rose.
And then to the side, I gave curtain a push -
and sure enough missing, my rose from rose bush.

But forced I a smile and gave him a kiss -
for this is one day that I'll soon reminisce.
His innocent countenance had drawn me to pray,
"Thank you, dear Lord, for my child today."

©2013 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED


February 14, 2013

LOVE 2-14-13

It simply is impossible and simply is absurd -
to think that love can be defined in ordinary word.

"For God so loved the world..." and too, He had amid -
the evil forces on the earth who tortured as they did.

To love someone who helped you is a simple thing to do -
but try to love the people who have great disdain for you.

Then let them whip you- up until the pain is so intense -
it makes one wonder, if in fact, you have no common sense.

And let them make you drag a big old heavy wooden cross -
until you're so exhausted [that the path] you fall across.

And let them nail you to the beams in most horrendous way -
then mock you as you hear each word the soldiers have to say.

And let them place a homemade crown of nothing but pure scorn
that seize your brow, while poking in, with long and piercing thorn.

And let them hang you there alone in pain and agony
for all the people gathered 'round- for all of them to see.

And let them have their evil way until the bitter end -
until you finally pass away for all who ever sinned.

It simply is impossible and simply is absurd -
to think that love can be defined in ordinary word.

©2013 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED


February 8, 2013

Why Angels Sing 2-8-13

The muscles tighten in my face
and tears come to my eyes -
each time I think of how you hurt
or hear your helpless cries.

You know if I could help you out,
I'd stop your pain today.
I'd use my little magic wand
to whisk them all away.

But if my magic wand was broke,
I'd buy them all with cash -
and then I'd torch each single one
and turn them into ash.

But if I couldn't burn them up
I'd open up your heart -
I'd take your sorrows- all of them -
and tear them all apart.

But if I couldn't tear them up
then I'd go to great length -
to throw your burdens off a cliff,
with every ounce of strength.

But if I wasn't strong enough
I'd haul them, height and breadth -
then watch them all splash overboard
into the ocean's depth.

But if your burdens didn't sink,
I'd work for many years -
right along beside you where
I'd kiss away your tears.

But if I couldn't dry your tears
I'd wish beyond degree -
that all your hurts would melt away
until you're bright with glee.

More tears go streaking down my cheeks.
I see you in great pain -
and now I've proven I can't help.
My work is all in vain.

Oh, how it saddens me to know
that I can't do a thing.
Yet God can heal your broken heart -
and that's why angels sing...

So smile awhile and lift your voice -
a voice so filled with love!
For those who hate will wallow here -
as you ascend above!

©2013 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED


February 2, 2013

A Wondrous Story 2-2-13

I'd love to be a poet and a real one, you know -
so I could write man's world off allowing God's to glow.
I'd write a wondrous story, that we could all take part
and live in true reality - each one with perfect heart.

I'd think outside my circle, with paper, ink and pen -
and think outside my flimsy box to live in peace again -
in gardens filled with blossoms - all colors full and bold -
that I could sweep my arms across and many flowers hold.

I'd jump inside my story with the animals and birds,
that live in His fine nature and are camouflaged with words -
that whisper as the breezes blow in true harmonic cord,
that bring us lives so unsurpassed when living with our Lord.

I'd peer up to the mountains, at the several waterfalls,
that rain grace down from Heaven where every angel calls -
to show to us a perfect world where He can overwhelm -
where man rejects but God perfects His great creation's realm.

I'd never hide inside my world, but fully would expect -
that men would treat each other with a solemn, deep respect -
that women dress with modesty and also could endow -
that girls learn to curtsy slow and boys would learn to bow.

I'd stroll inside my poem free from envy, sin and hate -
and walk beside still waters where 'the way' is always straight.
And I shall keep on writing true for many, many years -
until I see no longer through my sad and yearning tears.

I'd love to be a poet and a real one, you know -
so I could write man's world off allowing God's to glow.
I'd write a wondrous story, that we could all take part
and live in true reality - each one with perfect heart.

©2013 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED