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...

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

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