"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

December 26, 2015

The Old and Lonely Poet 12-26-15

On edge of arid desert set
a trailer aged in rust
with tires flattened long ago
and covered thick with dust.
A friend I'd known for many years
had lived alone inside -
and if his lamp was burning, then
I knew he hadn't died.

The lamp seemed always to be lit
but never did complain.
Then sure enough, I saw him there
through dirty window pane.
The Great Depression hurt him so.
I saw it in that place.
I saw it in his lonely words.
I saw it in his face.

The mental stress that he went through
was far too much to bear -
and would have been for anyone
if they were sitting there.
But they were not.  Just he alone
survived his great ordeal.
And his reward?  An empty can,
a cold and meager meal.

The old man couldn't hear too good.
The years had quickly passed -
so catching his attention, I
tapped loudly on the glass.
It seemed to take forever, but
he made it to the door.
Black cobwebs hung from corners and -
newspapers hid the floor.

He greeted me with friendly eyes,
skin wrinkled deep from sun.
He made me feel welcome, though
his work was never done.
I visited for quite awhile
as he kept at his rhymes.
He changed his thoughts, his lines, his words
at least a thousand times.

I said, "It must be good enough."
Replied he, "Not at all.
It doesn't capture God's great love.
This needs an overhaul.
For God is love and God is grace
in absolute perfection -
so how can I write something less
to add to this collection?

"This poetry I write for God
must always be perfected -
or basket, full of waste, is filled
with poems I've rejected."
I fell asleep while sitting there.
I woke at 3 AM
and heard him mumble something like,
"...to change the hearts of them."

Observed, I did, his wise old ways.
I'd learned all that I could -
but never measured up to him -
my writing, not as good.
I saw his great intensity.
I stayed with him for days.
I watched his sacrificial work
I saw his humble ways.

He strove to write in perfect words,
expressing his rare love
for all of those who'd done him harm
from politics above.
Forgiving them of evil deeds
had given him such peace -
that each and ev'ry word he wrote
became a masterpiece.

Though sometimes folks still speak of him,
he never set his goals -
to elevate his unknown name -
but rather save the souls -
through writings that should touch the hearts
of other eager men -
who draw attention to themselves
through selfish, prideful sin.

I once decided to return -
to visit one last time.
The old and lonely poet, though,
had written his last rhyme.
The years have passed.  Such great respect
I had for that old man.
Could I improve my poetry
for God?  He proved I can!

©2015 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED


December 20, 2015

Christmas Snow 12-20-15

When I was just a little lad
I heard my mother say,
"There's nothing like a Christmas snow
that falls on Christmas day."

And so one Christmas morning I
was curious to know -
if lawn would still be grassy green
or covered up with snow.

My room was dark.  My bed was warm.
Some sleep was in my eyes.
But hurried, I, to fin'lly see
my Christmas snow surprise!

I threw my blanket off my bed
and slid off to the floor.
It still was dark - so ran into
my dresser's open drawer.

I didn't cuss, but threw a fit -
and then I hurt my shin.
My attitude was sinking as
I slammed the drawer back in.

I raced up to my window where
I'd peek outside to see -
if God had sent a Christmas snow
especially for me.

I threw the curtains to the sides -
I guess a bit too hard -
because the falling curtain rod
had caught me there off-guard.

My arm still hurt from dresser drawer,
my head from curtain rod.
And when I saw no Christmas snow
I blamed both mom and God.

It seemed I didn't matter and -
God had no longer cared.
So feeling sorry for myself -
I, out the window, stared.

All morning long, I trudged along
and dragged my little feet.
It seemed that Christmas, once again,
would turn out incomplete.

My sentiment and attitude
was not a gentleman's.
The tantrums I had Christmas day
had dwarfed all other ones.

I wasted more than half that day
before mom called to me -
and said, "Come quickly.  Look at this.
There's something you should see."

To my surprise, from up above
and falling from the sky -
a Christmas snow proved God loves me,
...but now I'm not sure why.

©2015 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED


December 12, 2015

From Across the Lake 12-12-15

The cabin built with sturdy logs
(that firmly stood awake)
was nestled snugly in the trees
beside this quiet lake.

A dim and amber light shone out
to greet the lonely eye -
reflecting off this tiny lake
here under cloudy sky.

Through window pane, that sorry lamp -
far off on other side -
had shone from on a tabletop
with unseen chair beside.

And faithful chair supported all
the poet's ev'ry task.
Yet that old chair is empty now,
"but why?" you maybe ask.

You wonder who that poet is
or why he is away.
You wonder if he writes at night
or all throughout the day.

But when he comes, the chair again
will groan under his weight.
And over many months and years,
his work will rhymes create.

Now you might think and may conclude
of him, you didn't hear -
but I know this, you've read his work,
at least this poem here.

A glow begins to pour across
the sky in loving fun..
It reaches out so wide and far
with nearing of the sun.

And that light now reflects off of
a paper holding rhyme -
and calls me from across the lake.
I guess it's about time...

©2015 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED


December 5, 2015

A Snowflake 12-05-15

Born high inside a winter cloud,
a snowflake I became.
A snowflake small, defenseless and
too poor to have a name.
I opened up my naive eyes.
I had so much to learn,
but did not know the truth of life
or which way I should turn.

I was content with floating free -
as free as any bird,
until some other flakes whizzed by
and shocked me as I heard;
"Get out of here you stupid flake!
You're in our treasured world.
We're here to make a winter storm."
With that, they whipped and swirled.

Impeding them, they elbowed me.
My world turned up-side-down.
The wind was stiff and tossed me too
above a country town.
My glimpse at Christmas lights was brief
and couldn't be expressed -
as more flakes shoved me to the side
and wouldn't let me rest.

I wanted calm serenity,
but this is what they'd say;
"You bother us!  Get out of here!"
You're always in our way!"
They pushed and shoved and shoved and pushed.
I found it most appalling.
...And none of them had realized
that all of us were falling...

I saw a 'V' formation of
some southern flying geese.
If only I could hitch a ride -
then maybe I'd have peace...
I'd cherish, under tall palm trees,
the warming breezes felt.
But, if indeed, they're flying south,
I wondered, would I melt?

This life can be so burdensome,
this world so turbulent.
I prayed, "God, give me peace and rest"
as I made my descent.
I hovered over roadway where
I thought I'd safely land.
But then came two huge semi-trucks
that didn't understand.

The world had thrown me yet again.
My life became a blur!
But then I slowed and settled on
a Colorado fir.
And where were those insulting me?
It really was profound.
They melted under tire tracks
from traffic eastward bound.

High status, they had fought for but -
their efforts now have ended.
They said that I offended them.
I wished that they had listened.
They elbowed all their way through life -
for more space in the air.
But tell me, was it worth it all?
What did it matter there?

Retired now, I think of things
for which I am not proud -
and all the selfish thoughts I had
since falling from that cloud.
I think of times I prayed to God
and thought He didn't listen.
But Christmas lights around the town,
across the snow, now glisten...

©2015 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED


November 29, 2015

Your Love 11-29-15

Frosted needles on the pine
in this, the greatest nation.
Oh, why God, did you bless us with
Your good and great creation?

Rainbow smiles on every race,
between their dimples, bends.
Oh, why God, did you bless us with
such good and priceless friends?

A cross on steeple's pinnacle,
now draws us from our search.
Oh, why God, did you bless us with
Your Son's eternal church?
So why, God, do you bless me so
when I'm so blindly swerving -
on and off your 'narrow road',
when I'm so undeserving?

I fall down on arthritic knees.
I bow my weary head.
I used to focus on my wants,
but now I'm Yours instead.

From frosted needles, rainbow smiles
to cross that stands above,
I know now why You've blessed me so.
May others find Your love.

©2015 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED


November 24, 2015

When Fighting Hate 11-24-15

Picture from: https://chazzw.wordpress.com/2012/03/17/the-missing-of-the-somme-geoff-dyer/

It matters much
when two hearts touch,
yet war has its demand.
When fighting hate,
my flag is great,
but some don't understand.

Now it's a shame
some played their games
while we were undermanned.
Through heat and cold,
we all were bold,
but some don't understand.

While taking flak,
I watched his back.
We fought them man to man.
It happened fast,
that deadly blast,
but some don't understand.

With comrade dead,
sad tears I shed.
It's not what we had planned.
It makes no sense,
my guilt's immense,
but some don't understand.

Arriving home
with war syndrome,
experienced firsthand.
It all seems wrong
with heroes gone,
but some don't understand.

I'll make it though,
disfigured so.
This is my wonderland.
It's God I need,
I do indeed,
but some don't understand.

It matters much
when two hearts touch,
but war has its demand.
When fighting hate,
our cause is great.
Still, some don't understand.

©2015 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED


November 22, 2015

On Winds Of Time 11-22-15

The beauty of that place was such
that I just hadn't mattered much.
Except for me, the trees were bright
with vibrant leaves.  Oh, what a sight!
The crowds would mingle and would rest
among the brightest and the best
where thoughts and dreams together meld
in beauty so unparalleled.

Those autumn trees would grin and shout,
"Hey, look at us.  Come check us out.
We've colored leaves for you to see."
And so it was for ev'ry tree -
except for me with branches bare.
I didn't brag.  I didn't dare -
for people laughed - and newlyweds
just rolled their eyes and shook their heads.

A boy yanked off my one last leaf,
then ran away - that little thief!
So there I stood, ignored, alone.
I was a poet tree, unknown.
Exposing all my worthless whims,
the breezes weaved around my limbs.
The days were long and getting cold.
I knew that I was growing old.

A gentleman came strolling by
who paused a bit.  I don't know why.
He was a man, quite elderly
who found an old leaf under me.
He picked it up and for a while,
I thought I saw a little smile.
He contemplated for a time
and then reread my dead leaf rhyme.

I'm not a poet tree, they say
so yes, my poems blow away.
But high in humble love they sail -
across the plains and over vale,
over seas and over shores,
before they rest near Heaven's doors.
They're found by men of humble heart
whose souls are touched and set apart.

Let colored leaves not camouflage
those covered trees that sabotage
the perfect rhymes of poet's love
which blow as snow from God above.
God's love is oftentimes disguised
from people who are mesmerized
by pretty leaves that promise bliss
and worlds of joy and happiness.

But seasons come and seasons go
as brooks and streams and rivers flow.
They never stop.  They never end.
If only man could comprehend.
For sailing from the empty trees
are tears of love inside the leaves.
So leaves as these are worth the rhyme
and fly along on winds of time.

©2015 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED


November 15, 2015

Cuckoo Clock 11-15-15

The time is almost 3 AM.
but I don't really care -
except the ticking of the clock
is more than I can bear.

The pendulum swings back and forth.
It doesn't ever sleep.
And neither have I had a wink,
(though I have counted sheep).

The tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock, tick
is all it ever does.
A cuckoo clock is all it is
and all it ever was.

It can't jump off the wall and run.
That little bird can't fly.
She hasn't helped a single soul.
She's not as good as I.

So should I take her insults too?
She makes my stomach sour.
She says that I am cuckoo ev'ry
hour on the hour...

A burst of great emotions come
whenever she pops out -
and tells me I am cuckoo 'till
it makes me want to shout.

But then she quickly sneaks back in
and shuts her little door.
If only she could stay in there,
and not pop out at 4.

Her strong opinion does not change
and I know it won't end -
but I'll forgive that little bird.
She really is my friend.

And so I pull the weights back up
to give her one more day
to tell me I am cuckoo, 'cause -
that's all that she can say.

The time is almost 4 AM.
but I don't really care -
except the ticking of the clock
is more than I can bear.

©2015 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED


November 8, 2015

Doug, the Bug 11-8-15

"If I could elevate myself
and look down from the sky,
then I could see the facts of life
and learn of truth and lie."

Now that's what Doug, the Bug had thought.
He therefore went afoot -
t'ward great gigantic tree atop
its long and bulging root.

Then finally he started up.
That trunk had massive girth.
It seemed to be as solid as
the ground upon the earth.

He climbed the largest limb he found
and then the highest branch.
It all seemed very sturdy there.
It overlooked a ranch.

Back up, Doug glanced - and then he spied
the highest leaf of all!
And so he climbed some tiny twigs
which seemed quite weak and small.

"I'm almost there," he told himself,
"I'll rest on highest leaf."
At last that bug stood right on top
his firmly held belief.

Now Doug gripped tight, that little leaf
that he, himself, had earned.
And though he thought he knew it all,
one lesson hadn't learned.

You know, the truth is not always
the things that we can see.
Invisible, those autumn winds
had yanked that leaf from tree.

So Doug, the Bug was on his own.
He feared for his own soul -
and he was at the mercy of
that wicked wind's control.

He soared there on that wayward leaf
to places yet unknown -
then settled on a foreign ground
where he was all alone.

All winter he, in circles walked
and aimlessly did roam.
He shed such long repentant tears
but couldn't find his home.

He ran and cried and cried and ran -
then fell flat on his face.
Then God reached down and picked him up.
And that's what we call grace.

©2015 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED


November 1, 2015

Seven Words 11-1-15

(based on a true story)

Her son stepped to the pulpit with
some papers in his hand.
He cleared his throat and thought a bit,
but would they understand?

Would they know who mom really was?
Would they know they had fun?
Would they know mom loved God and prayed?
Would they know all she'd done?

Would they know she was always poor,
her pain and all her crying?
Would they know she helped little ones
with smiles and hugs while dying?

He laid, then, all the papers down
and peered up into Heaven.
Inside his mind he edited
his words right down to seven.

Would seven words explain it all
and would those words prevail -
there in each heart describing mom
in intimate detail?

Now friends and fam'ly waited for
her son with eager ears -
as he concluded all his thoughts
while holding back his tears.

He took a breath and slowly spoke
until his talk was done.
"Ev'ryone loved mom, because,
[my] mom loved ev'ryone."

He noticed many sparkles flash,
in each and ev'ry eye.
He gazed down at the casket then -
and said his last goodbye.

©2015 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED


God knows all corners of our minds.
He knows our subtle ways.
He knows the number of our hairs,
deceptions of our days.
But love connects both God and man -
the greatest and the last -
and son knew he would see her soon,
for time on earth flies fast.
©2015 louis gander

October 26, 2015

Meet My Friend, 'Love' 10-26-15

Hello there!  Meet my friend, 'Love'.
Inside my heart, He lives.
My other friends reside there too,
but my friend 'Love' forgives.

I have not done much for my 'Love' -
as my life was a mess.
And I remember my mistakes.
He loves me nonetheless.

'Love' does not tally up mistakes
that I have made before -
but 'Love' pours grace on all the more
and does not keep a score.

Ashamed, I am, when I think back
and wish I could divert
my thoughts and acts of selfishness
and all who I have hurt.

I often cry when I remember
all of my mistakes,
but 'Love' absorbs my pain and guilt
and does whate'er it takes.

'Love' can't reside in angry hearts
that it finds hard and cold,
but rather in the humble heart,
now whether young or old.

Atrocities of sinful man
just guts my inner soul -
but 'Love' is great and 'Love' is good
and 'Love' is in control.

Though 'Love' allows imperfect man
to make a sinful choice,
He cleared a path of perfect peace
so we can all rejoice.

Words can't express the joy I feel
and all I'm thinking of -
for God's the great creator and
He is the God of 'Love'.

I'm pleased that you have met my 'Love'.
Does 'Love' reside in you?
If you love others as yourself
then 'Love' is your friend too.

©2015 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED


1 John 4:8 (NASB)
8 The one who does not love does not know God, for God is love.

Mark 12:30-31 (NASB)
30 and you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart,
and with all your soul,
and with all your mind,
and with all your strength.’
31 The second is this, ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’
There is no other commandment greater than these.”

October 20, 2015

To Gardens Yet Unknown 10-20-15

Beneath the calm and quiet sky
two butterflies go drifting by -
as yellow as the sun.
A wild flower bends a bit
as one has temporarily lit.
The other joins in fun.

Then off again they wing with task
but yet, so playfully I ask,
Are they that much in love?
They look to be, or so it seems,
alive inside their unique dreams
which float so high above.

It's if they taunt, it's if they tease
my little world of memories,
of our lives long ago.
Those treasured thoughts of yesteryear
still seem so recent, seem so near,
I'll never let them go.

Their presence here is so worthwhile
I find myself with pleasant smile,
though I sit all alone.
Then finally, they both take flight
to other places out of sight,
to gardens yet unknown.

©2015 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED


October 15, 2015

How Beautiful! 10-15-15

How beautiful, the autumn day!
How beautiful, the trees!
How beautiful, the up-stretched limbs!
How beautiful, their leaves!
How beautiful, the sunlit skies!
How beautiful, the rays!
How beautiful, creation's peace!
How beautiful, the days!

So beautiful, the season's end
when I breathe my last breath.
Because, when I'm at Heaven's door,
how beautiful, earth's death!
You see, this earth was all I knew.
Earth died so I'd arrive
to dreams too unbelievable -
in Heaven's world, alive!

How beautiful when Winter's past!
How beautiful the Spring!
How beautiful the Angels are!
How beautiful they sing!
How beautiful my Jesus is!
How beautiful His face!
How beautiful His perfect love!
How beautiful His grace!

©2015 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED


October 13, 2015

Great Democratic Debate, The 10-13-15

With crowd, ecstatic, you might think
that truth might finally win.
But no, deceptions lingered on
in shallow, selfish din.

The candidates deceive us all.
Pet projects, each discusses.
They came to this, the 'Great Debate'
in jets and campaign buses.

The smiles they wore were painted on.
So sly, those hungry foxes.
And all of them were standing tall
on top of their soapboxes.
The 'stomach' growled greedily,
"Hey, I'll do much more taxing.
I'll gouge the ones who go to work
so you can be relaxing."

The 'hand' said, "I will snatch the purse
of ev'ry working man.
I'll give you fruits of their hard work.
Now do you understand?"

The 'tongue' spoke up quite sharply then,
"You've heard me, one and all!
Benghazi, no, is not my fault -
because I don't recall...
I fell down and hit my head
before that legal hearings.
I would've shown up if I hadn't
lost my fav'rite earings.
I'll tell that hearing anything -
and lie, for goodness sake -
Who cares about ambassadors?
What difference does it make?
We need a woman president!
We need a leader NOW!
We need to have a first "first man"
I need you to allow...
me to be a president.  Because I've always wanted
to be since smoking pot in college with Bill..
And I don't care if this rhymes or not

(The moderator covered this
with manufactured cough.
And when the viewers had enough
they turned their TVs off.)

We do not need a woman.
transvestite, or a man.
We do not need a socialist
but someone true who can.
We don't need someone 'statesman-like'
but rather someone real.
If not, we'll some day be blown up
by bad atomic deal.

Now even if we save the whales
and stop all soil erosion -
global warming we will get
with nuclear explosion.
Yes, 'presidential' they may look
and 'presidential' sound -
but what they do is critical
for answers to be found.

The Constitution has them all -
so maybe we should look.
Love country this time.  Let us not
elect another crook.
The last one you had voted in,
in EV'RY aspect failed -
then violated sev'ral laws!
So why is he not jailed?

Now here's another "great" debate.
With empty words, each shares...
What diff'rence does it really make?
It tells me this:  Who cares?

©2015 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED


October 10, 2015

I Want To Share 10-10-15

I once thought I was happy 'cause
I had good friends and cars.
And sadly, so mistaken, I
would visit clubs and bars.
Though I was locked in sins distress,
I thought surroundings true.
And nothing said could make me change.
No, nothing else would do.

Sin won its way deceiving me.
Its lies chained me to walls.
I thought my life successful 'til
I heard those whispered calls...
Throughout my life, I heard those words -
but sin allowed no choice.
A question echoed "Who are you?"
I heard in my own voice.
Yes, in a rut, I lived my life -
in dungeon, it had seemed.
But nothing changed, no matter how,
how loud that I had screamed.

That cold, dark dungeon seemed to speak -
so then I'd laugh and joke.
But scoffing echoed back at me
each time that I had spoke.

Then through sins darkness, I had heard
a key that seemed to cry.
The lock had turned in agony
but I had not known why.

From dungeon's depth, a creak I heard.
That heavy-laden door
unlocked to let a crack of light
expose me on that floor.

Light filtered through the musty dust
that hung thick in the air.
I, for the first time, realized
how pointless it was there.

And so it was, I saw myself
in my dark world of sin.
I smelled the odor of my life
and felt the filth within.

The shackles, I myself had locked,
weighed heavy on my legs.
But even if, I wanted out -
who'd hear my humble begs?

And then those rusty hinges squeaked -
above the rust rebelling.
"Forgive them Father!" I had heard
against cries, screams and yelling!

I held my hands tight to my ears.
So deafening, the riot!
Then suddenly, a stillness came -
and everything grew quiet.

Then once again, I heard that voice -
yet... no one I could see.
But oh, the freedom I had felt
when chains fell off of me!

I made my way toward ray of light.
So weak, I had to crawl.
As dungeon's door kept opening -
more light of truth I saw.

I then confessed all black and white
and ev'ry shade of gray!
I saw rich colors in His world!
I saw the light of day!

I saw His palms, His nail scars -
then cried through my repentance!
That breath of fresh air woke me up!
It all made perfect sense!

The brightness of His rainbow-ed world
was more than I could bear!
He raised me up onto my feet -
so now I want to share.

I want to share to those I see -
so proud of their new cars -
inviting me to ride with them
to parties and to bars.

There's too much thrill in Jesus' arms
to go back to those chains.
And even through my failures here,
God's love for me remains.

©2015 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED


And Can It Be
Text: Charles Wesley, 1707-1788
Music: Thomas Campbell 
Tune: SAGINA, Meter: 88.88.88 with Repeat

1. And can it be that I should gain 
an interest in the Savior's blood! 
Died he for me? who caused his pain! 
For me? who him to death pursued? 
Amazing love! How can it be 
that thou, my God, shouldst die for me? 
Amazing love! How can it be 
that thou, my God, shouldst die for me? 

2. 'Tis mystery all: th' Immortal dies! 
Who can explore his strange design? 
In vain the firstborn seraph tries 
to sound the depths of love divine. 
'Tis mercy all! Let earth adore; 
let angel minds inquire no more. 
'Tis mercy all! Let earth adore; 
let angel minds inquire no more. 

3. He left his Father's throne above 
(so free, so infinite his grace!), 
emptied himself of all but love, 
and bled for Adam's helpless race. 
'Tis mercy all, immense and free, 
for O my God, it found out me! 
'Tis mercy all, immense and free, 
for O my God, it found out me! 

4. Long my imprisoned spirit lay, 
fast bound in sin and nature's night; 
thine eye diffused a quickening ray; 
I woke, the dungeon flamed with light; 
my chains fell off, my heart was free, 
I rose, went forth, and followed thee. 
My chains fell off, my heart was free, 
I rose, went forth, and followed thee. 

5. No condemnation now I dread; 
Jesus, and all in him, is mine; 
alive in him, my living Head, 
and clothed in righteousness divine, 
bold I approach th' eternal throne, 
and claim the crown, through Christ my own. 
Bold I approach th' eternal throne, 
and claim the crown, through Christ my own.

October 5, 2015

These Two Short Words 10-5-15

I'm just a short and simple poem with two short words to say
and though forgotten, I will be - these words won't pass away.
They're given to the ages, to people large and small.
They're given to us freely and they're given to us all.

Though I am insignificant - a poem of the hour,
forget my words, but share these two.  They have tremendous power.
Do not expect that I'll depict a nature scene with birds -
for soon you'll see me disappear - so first find these two words.

Now Jesus healed the lost and sick and lame in His good time.
He calmed the sea and fed the crowds, but never did the crime.
Yet still today, man scoffs although He never hurt a soul -
and that's why these two words will live beyond the written scroll.

Yes, you'll forget this little poem and soon forget the rhymes,
and soon go back to other things and entertaining times.
But don't forget these two short words and hold them very near.
For these two words, "Jesus Saves!" shall never disappear.

©2015 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED


October 1, 2015

Arguing With 'Joy' 10-1-15

(arguing with 'joy')

I know that you are kidding me!
I am not a believer!
It's happiness I care about.
You're but a deceiver.

My entertainment is a must.
I want to laugh and joke.
Do you think you can handle that?
Now give me one more 'smoke'.

I want the comforts I hold dear.
I like my TV show.
I want to watch my team play ball -
and I want you to go.

I'd rather be intoxicated
on fine, red berry wine.
I'd rather live in merry bliss
than walking your straight line.

I have a bad hangover now,
so please just go away.
If some day I should be content,
I'll let you, with me, stay.
An evil life, man can now live
and he, his life destroy -
but only God has perfect love
which will bring perfect joy.

©2015 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED


September 29, 2015

Arguing With 'Love' 9-29-15

(arguing with 'love')

There's not one speck of you in me.
I'm macho, tough and strong!
Go back to those who have soft hearts.
Go back where you belong.
I have no fear of anything
as long as I have breath.
I have no fear of failure and
I have no fear of death.

You make me whimper in my pride
You're not for men like me.
You are so difficult to say
and cause such jealousy.
My ears have heard the saddest songs
that man could ever sing.
You cannot give me what I want -
You are not comforting.

You melt my heart and kill my soul
when everything goes wrong.
You make me sad.  You make me blue.
You string me out so long...
...then break my heart and make me cry.
You made me very sad.
You make the tears run down my cheeks.
I've no more words to add.

For God so loved the world, you say -
a world with many views.
So am I not to judge all those
who don't live in my shoes?
Their cultures are so different
so tell me, must I start -
to show you to my enemies
so they can see my heart?

You also tell me Someone died -
that sacrifice begins
(despite a very cruel death)
to save me from my sins...
...that you are something different -
and something I must share -
to someone I don't even know -
so that they know I care.

Am I but showing off to friends?
Will they make fun of me -
if they should see me shed a tear
or see me on one knee?
Well, humbled, I will tell of you
until I get to Heaven -
for you are the most precious gift
that God has ever given.

©2015 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED


September 23, 2015

Arguing With 'Truth' 9-23-15

(arguing with 'truth')

You make me sick!  You pester me
right here in my dominion.
Don't contradict what I have said!
I've rights to my opinion!

Get out of here!  You're in my way!
I stumble over you!
The 'ends' will justify my 'means'.
I have great things to do.

I know that only I'm correct.
So hear me!  I protest!
My education proves me right.
I really know what's best.

I argue with you all the time!
You never care a wit!
You never, ever compromise.
You never bend a bit.

I fight you and abhor you too!
You never reassess -
your stubborn, hard validity.
Indignant righteousness!

You speak, but then don't listen and
ignore my arguments.
The silence really angers me.
I'm not at all content.

Your stubborn facts confuse me so.
You make me very mad.
But oh, my friends support me so.
Deception's not so bad.

My mind was made up long ago.
You can't get hold of me.
I'm all wrapped up in my belief
I chase religiously.

Rock solid was your steadfastness.
I thought you were a joke~!
...but wish I'd paid attention to
my conscience when you spoke.

You made me feel so guilty that
I blamed it all on you.
Now I'm alone and so depressed.
Deceptions were untrue.

Ignore you?  I can't any more.
All lies now seem so strange.
As God in all His glory there,
you'll never, ever change.

You've opened up my weary eyes.
Once blind, I now can see!
Thank God you've now accepted me -
for you have set me free!

©2015 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED


September 20, 2015

In the Sand 9-20-15

The footprints in the sand have long ago been washed away,
by rising tides and sinful waves that we can see today.
We wander beaches daily searching for them all around,
then wonder why our Savior Lord is nowhere to be found.

We search through our theologies and search our world o'er.
We search so far and long and hard for evidence and more...
...as wars and chaos follow us.  The poor and migrants too.
We are so overwhelmed, we say.  Oh, what are we to do?

We pray for all our sicknesses and great financial woes,
but selfishness is evident and oh, it really shows.
It shows with more vacations and our thoughts in ev'ry pleasure.
It shows with bigger homes and faster cars and ev'ry treasure.

How can we find our loving God when buried in our stuff?
And when do you think God will fin'lly say He's had enough?
But memories still carry truth that someone carried us -
so when we glance back at the shore, remember, it was Jesus.

So don't forget to thank Him for the blessings that He gave,
then pray that He will idle tides and ev'ry sinful wave.
Indeed, if we can witness peace throughout both sea and land
it's then we'll notice once again those footprints in the sand.

©2015 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED


September 17, 2015

Flat On My Face 9-17-15

I labored at busy pace
before I fell flat on my face.
I cried in self-pity and shame.
But as tears subsided,
my eyes (once misguided),
convinced me that I was to blame.

Yes, as my tears dried up,
I saw them both close up -
those scars that went deep in His feet.
I couldn't erase
all the pain in His face -
so how I wished I could retreat.

I'd weasel away
from the viewing that day -
the scars in His feet that still fail -
to tell the whole story
of Christ in His glory
who lovingly took each dull nail.

Accepting the whipping,
the pain and blood dripping -
He watches my new life begin.
So there I had stayed,
because Jesus had paid -
His life that He gave for my sin.

I'm eating a diet
of thoughts.  It is quiet -
except for my own weeping sound.
I cannot compete
with His pierced dusty feet
while lying here flat on the ground.

For Jesus, the Master,
has given much faster -
a life that I've always longed for.
So more than my pain
is the lot of my gain
as I wait, reverently, Heaven's door.

©2015 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED


September 12, 2015

His Stepping Stones 9-12-15

The trees had towered high above with leaves that blocked the sun,
except sporadic points of light with rays that danced in fun,
reflecting smooth and softened light off surface they would share,
from lazy stream meandering through lush, thick grasses there.

The random, yellow flowers sprinkled down along the bank,
had framed a lovely picture 'round the stream where sparrow drank,
as ripples crossed the mirrored stream where it was somewhat wide,
before that sparrow took to flight beyond the other side,

I prayed that I might also find a way beyond the stream,
but there was no where I could cross to realize that dream.
Determined that I'd have my way, I held each leather shoe
and started wading 'cross the stream to get another view.

But splash!  Face down I tripped and fell, then crawled out soaking wet.
I trudged myself downstream a bit.  His truth and my eyes met.
It's 'one' to 'zero'.  God has won and that's the final score.
Still soaking wet from head to toe, I started thinking more...

Sometimes through life we have no clue.  I ponder as I sit -
of what God's done for me and you, just there downstream a bit.
He gives us His instruction and a 'dose of wisdom' loans -
if patient, we can't learn to be, to find His stepping stones.

©2015 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED


Proverbs 1:7 (NASB)
"The fear of the Lord is the beginning of knowledge;
Fools despise wisdom and instruction."

September 8, 2015

My Special Friend 9-8-15

Sad I, the tiny sparrow was.
I wasn't very big.
Yet happy were my friends in flight,
from limb to branch to twig.

I couldn't eat as others did
and didn't seem to grow.
I'd follow quite a ways behind.
I was too weak and slow.

Yes, they had teased and laughed at me
when I was back in school.
They'd scoff, then fly away from me.
Some kids can be so cruel.

Yet growing up, I was okay
here living out-of-doors.
So optimistically I grew -
but when it rains, it pours.

A violent gust of wicked wind
had hurled me to the ground!
The other birds had seen me fall -
so they had gathered 'round.

A Shepherd came when I had felled -
so sudden and abrupt.
My sore and crippled body then
was in His hands He cupped.

I saw some ugly, rugged scars
cut deep into those hands.
My wing was hurt, I couldn't fly.
This wasn't in my plans.

He raised me up.  It frightened me!
The other sparrows hushed.
Because I didn't know His love
I thought that I'd be crushed!

Believing things that I could see,
I held to physical.
Unknown, the things that I could not,
I feared the spiritual.

Yet now He holds and cares for me
unlike those other birds.
I can't describe the peacefulness.
I just can't find the words.

It's odd that I once feared the Lord
when I was on the mend.
But I have learned He loves me so.
Now He's my special friend.

©2015 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED


Matthew 10:28-30 (NIV)
28 Do not be afraid of those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul.
Rather, be afraid of the One who can destroy both soul and body in hell.
29 Are not two sparrows sold for a penny?
Yet not one of them will fall to the ground outside your Father’s care.