"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

April 20, 2013

Termites! 4-20-13


"Hey, we will tax small businesses and little grandmas too -
and we will tax your neighbor and we'll give it all to you."
said he, the tiny termite in intimidating clothes -
but I was none the wiser and- that's how this story goes.

"And then we'll tax the smokers and the drinkers and the fat -
so would you have some int'rest in a program such as that?"
said he, the brazen termite with the velvet tongue that flows -
but I was none the wiser and- that's how this story goes.

"And here's another program that will pay when you get old -
so let us take your money now." ('A pittance', I was told).
He brought some little friends along who lined up straight in rows -
but I was none the wiser and- that's how this story goes.

"It's just a little program that will help when grandma's sick-
so let us take some money now." ...and wow, they took it quick.
And so the termites marched along but said, "We won't impose."
Oh, I was none the wiser and- that's how this story goes.

"It's just a 'rainy day' fund that's for you when unemployed-
so let us take some money now. This tax, you can't avoid.
And so, more termites gathered- and, in fact, they came in droves -
Oh, I was none the wiser and- that's how this story goes.

"It's just a little highway that will hurry you to work-
so let us take some money. Please don't be a stingy jerk."
And so, the termites led me by my twisted, naive nose.
Oh, I was none the wiser and- that's how this story goes.

"It's just a little food stamp that will feed the little folk-
so let us take some money now. They're children. It's no joke."
And as the termites ate away, I didn't once oppose -
for I was none the wiser and- that's how this story goes.

"It's just a little missile that protects you during war-
so let us take some money now. You'll learn what it is for."
And so the termites taxed and spent- and that's how 'hot air' blows -
for I was none the wiser and- that's how this story goes.

"It's just to bail banks, et.al., who were too big to fail-
so let us take your money now or you will go to jail."
And so the termites ate away. No arguments arose.
for I was none the wiser and - that's how this story goes.

"It's just the way it is that there's no program for your loan.".
They told me, "Just go run along"- that I was on my own.
And so the termites ate and ate at anything they chose.
I wish I'd been the wiser but- that's how this story goes.

"It's just a little program for your care when you are sick-
so let us take some money now and we'll, your doctors, pick."
And so the termites ate their fill. Now I'm a slave to those -
I wish I'd been the wiser but- that's how this story goes.

"It's just to pay for things you get- these programs we design -
so give us all your money now or we will levy fines.
And so the termites ate away and greater damage shows.
I wish I'd been the wiser but- that's how this story goes.

"It's just to pay entitlements and int'rest on the debt-
and you must pay the IRS- and yes, this is a threat."
Then as they blamed us for this debt, they stepped right on our toes -
I wish we'd been the wiser but- that's how this story goes.

They've mortgaged off our Nation's Parks and too, Miss Liberty.
They've stripped her of her freedoms and her every dignity.
And then the fat 'ol termites left, but where? Nobody knows.
I wish I'd been the wiser but- that's how this story goes.

Those termite politicians? They took us for a ride -
with budgets in the trillions eating through our countryside.
And as they blame us for this debt, the 'money river' flows -
I wish we'd been the wiser but- that's how this story goes.

Now who defends each 'unborn child' who has to pay this debt -
or lobbies for the 'least of these' before they 18 get?
They punch me squarely in the face- then curse my bloody nose.
I know I am the wiser now. That's how this story goes.

This battle must be prudent as the termites eat us poor.
It isn't what we asked for but it's now a civil war.
We cannot run away from them and so our passion grows -
because we're all the wiser now.  That's how this story goes.

©2013 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

-------

The one thing much more despicable than 'not voting' -
is voting in selfish ignorance as a 'lover of money'
from ANY party - for one's own pocketbook -
without a love for rights & responsibilities,
liberties & freedoms, duty & honor,
or Country...  ~louis gander

April 17, 2013

On Timbered Tree 4-17-13


So proud the tree that grew freely
with 'green-backed' leaves to show -
but selfish sins brought greedy winds
that blew them 'to and fro'.

It had begun. The truth was spun.
Some laws were 'redefined'.
They had an itch to bail the rich
but leave us poor behind.

And then, so fast, the leaves they cast
throughout the stormy sky -
where billions tossed were sadly lost -
from bureaucratic lie.

T'was blunder's greed! Bankrupt indeed -
but fail? They were too big!
So bailed out, they gained more clout
that broke each little twig.

Free enterprise then undersized -
had undermined the oak.
The witnesses? Small businesses -
that saw their branches broke.

From smallest twig to branches big,
what future can be bright -
when in a funk we find the trunk
with but two limbs in sight?

Oh, how can we, grow honestly
when love for money gains -
outstripping small when guilty call -
and love for country wanes?

Now every kind of termite find
on timbered tree of thieves.
And debt, the moss, our country's cost -
when missing, are the leaves.

©2013 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

April 10, 2013

Blooming From Roots 4-10-13

This is a TRUE STORY POEM of horror, action and suspense.



It starts with a little 6 year old girl named "Jellee" (pronounced "jelly")
from Liberia, Africa (on the western coast) -
and ends when she is about 18 and having changed her name to Veronica.
I think you'll find out why...

I personally interviewed Veronica and helped begin writing her biography
which she is planning to entitle "Blooming From Roots".

I name this poem the same.

Obviously I am not able to write her whole life's experiences in poetry form

and her book will be more detailed -
yet I kept this poem fully factual
(and should be appropriate for the younger readers as well).
I have written it in 'first person' in present tense with permission.

I wish to thank Veronica (Jellee) Gabor for giving me permission
to publish this poem for my readers.
I hope you enjoy "Blooming From Roots".

---

Blooming From Roots

The night is very peaceful.  Stars twinkle in the sky.
While God creates the beauty, man destroys - but why?

A-boom! Boom! Boom!   A-bang, bang, bang!  A-pop, pop, pop!  Rat-a-tat-tat...
Our village undefended!  The horror starts like that.

What is going on?  I'm only six years old.  Gunshots echo through the air!
Yelling, screaming - orders barked.  Bullets everywhere!

(Jellee, in blue, at her home with some of her family - age 6)

As fireworks, but louder - those AK-forty-sevens -
A-bang, bang, bang!  A-pop, pop, pop!  The booming shakes the heavens!

The rebels swarm like bumble bees!  The terror snatches breath.
They frighten all the villagers.  They sting us with their death!

They scare me so.  I try to run.  One catches me off-guard.
He slaps me and I start to bleed.  He hits and kicks me hard.

They seize my father, torture him.  They frighten me a lot!
They grab his arms, behead him there - and kill him on the spot.

The rebels move so swiftly!  I'm just a little child!
My mom is screaming.  I am too.  These murderers are wild!

Two more hold my mother down - they kill as if a game!
"Shut up!" the rebel yells at me, "...or you will get the same!"

Oh, how I squirm and wiggle!  He's holding me so tight.
He hurts my arms.  I cry and scream!  I am too young to fight.

He hits me hard with his big gun.  It slams me to the ground.
He swears that I will get the same if I make one more sound.

Shocked, I am.  I'm terrified.  My friends still unaware -
of what is really happening.  Is this a bad nightmare?

I scramble up and start to run - past one hut, then another.
Oh, will he kill me as he did my father and my mother?

I run as fast as I can run.  I'm frightened as can be.
A lady grabs and picks me up - her arms protecting me.

I'm wailing as she runs to hide among 'da bush' and trees.
I hear the chaos all around now bent low on my knees.

I soon think it is safe enough for me to run away -
but I will be forever scarred.  I won't forget this day.

For years I live with others, my makeshift families -
but oh, the torture I go through is more than man believes.

(Jellee at age 10)

Such sin conceives atrocious things, but that does not compare
to all the things they make me do.  It's way too much to bear...

I lost my friends and family.  It simply makes no sense!
I cannot find a peaceful place.  I lose my innocence.

I bounce between the villages to find a life of peace -
but trial after failed trial, the sadness doesn't cease.

Then once again, it happens!  And this I can't endure!
The rebels come in shooting!  No village is secure!

I pray that they will go away.  My heart is beating hard.
I hide again inside 'da bush' - emotionally scarred.

I try to hide the best I can with rebels coming near -
I hear the bushes moving and an angry voice I hear:

"We know you're hiding!  Come on out, or we shoot again!"
 And with those words they fire some more - a terrorizing sin.

A bullet hits my ankle.  I quickly take my top -.
and tie it 'round my ankle - for it is all I've got.

And then I try to flee again.  There's no way I can stay.
My left hand holds my ankle as I try to run away.

I hear something familiar.  I look up to the skies.
A helicopter nears the road!  A sight for weary eyes!

The emblem proves it's friendly.  The bright 'red, white and blue'.
I run as fast as I can go.  That is what I must do.

I hold my bleeding ankle and I also try to run.
My former top is soaked with blood.  My last dash has begun.

I cannot stay and that's for sure - to left and right, I glance.
I look out through the clearing.  This is my only chance!

I pass the dying bodies of - mothers, girls and boys.
But I must leave this awful place where sinful man destroys.

Through bullets, can I make it?  I really do not know.
I start across the clearing.  I stumble as I go.

It seems to take forever.  I'm determined so, to put -
this nightmare far behind me.  I hurt from head to foot.

The chopper blades are noisy.  The dust blows in my face.
Some bullets zing right past my head.  I quicken up my pace!

Just when I'm feeling hopeful, a bullet rips my side.
I fall with all the others and I think I'll miss my ride.

I have no strength to run again.  I'm bleeding real bad.
I put my right hand on my side.  That chance was all I had.

I'm feeling weak and failing fast.  While dying here, I cry.
I vainly wave for someone's help - so futilely I try...

And then the lights go out.  It's black.  I've failed with the others -
those who came so very close - fathers, mothers, brothers...

When terror roots, a rebel shoots and death is what he gives -
yet blooming now from ugly roots, a lovely flower lives!

And two weeks later, I wake up, with coma finally over.
And though I ache from head to toe, I 'see' green fields of clover.

I 'see' a land so beautiful - a land that most can't see -
a land of milk and honey, of opportunity.

(one of Jellee's gunshot wounds - this one from an AK-47)

Now five years later, it came true.  I'm thankful still today.
Though I don't know who rescued me, I'm in the USA!

It seems as though I'm born again - and not just 'physically'.
I 'see' this land more beautifully - and it comes 'spiritually'.

An everlasting land in Heav'n - if Jesus lives within.
He picks us up right where we fall - if we've been born again.

The day is very peaceful.  Although the terror looms,
As God creates the beauty, His precious child blooms.

©2012 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED (11/19/12)

(I could not bring myself to write about all of the many atrocities)
-------

John 3:16 King James Version (KJV)
For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.

John 14:3 (KJV)
And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again, and receive you unto myself; that where I am, there ye may be also.

April 5, 2013

Just His Guest 4-5-13


I sit a'spell and ponder 'bout,
creation at its best -
and savor life each minute knowing
I am just His guest...

And frolicking, those two fawns did, near green, dense forest brush -
just playing in ecstatic glee.  I laid low, quiet, hushed...

A bubbling brook meandered past one little playful twin -
and slipped down over smooth washed stones in sheets most paper thin.

So quietly I watched them play, as mother doe stood still.
She guided them and peered around as only mothers will.

And grandly standing on the knoll, a rigid eight point buck.
He stood as if a statue there, as if his feet were stuck.

A squirrel scampered up a tree.  The twins both took a drink.
The mother doe stepped closer and- this whole view made me think.

I pondered God's creation.  Such beauty man can see -
of peace and true tranquility...  but then a "BOOM!" shook me.

CRACK!!  That bang had echoed- still echoes in my head.
The eight point buck, with startled jerk, had lurched and then fell dead.

How quickly things can happen- and in our lives as well -
when we could end up just like that- in Heaven or in Hell.

Though He had loved and only healed and gave us full increase,
some couldn't 'stomach' long ago, this Man of grace and peace.

We kill to have our stomach filled, indifferent for the loss.
This fateful time man killed with gun- but former time, a cross.

Those creatures scattered with that shot and I saw not a trace.
The eight point buck gave all he had- but Jesus, life and grace.

I sit a 'spell and ponder 'bout
creation at its best -
and savor life each minute knowing
I am just His guest...

©2013 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

-------

April 1, 2013

A Leaf 4-1-13


I was a leaf with no relief
from stiff and blowing winds -
and twisted taut was cruelly fought
with all their greedy sins.
I set my sights on city lights
but life was in their hands.
I held on tight with all my might -
but they had killed my plans.

Still, all went good- as well, it should
until I met my match -
when roared and churned the gusts had turned.
I twisted and detached.
But oh, alas!  It came to pass
that it was not of me!
With legal tools, they changed the rules -
then yanked me from that tree.

Unlike a play, the truth did say,
I soared right through the air.
I did not know where I would go,
but, oh indeed, did care.
Now judged from those with pointed nose
who see me from afar -
they claim I failed because I'd sailed
with breezy winds that are.

Let those who judge and do not budge
be sentenced not this way -
but may the suns burn greedy ones
forever and a day...
They do not care I'm flying where
no leaf has gone before
and so I go where ill winds blow
but not forevermore.

I'll settle down on clover ground
on soft caressing lawn -
that's so serene by pastures green
where few have ever gone.
It's Heaven's sod.  For only God
knows everywhere I've blown.
And He employs the greatest joys
this world has ever known.

©2013 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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March 27, 2013

Worse Than That 3-27-13


While I was strolling near a pond
one bright and breezy day,
a splendid scene had caught my eye
in such a special way.

Decided I, to lie a spell,
to take in nature's views.
So I had lain on greener grass
and kicked off both my shoes.

I saw the mirror images which
'bounced' beneath the sky,
on tips of little ripples that had
seemed to tip-toe by.

So beautiful, the lights reflected
off the little pond,
off the dancing water that
had seemed to just respond.

But life is not as it appears.
My thoughts took all this in,
When I had found that I had laid
right in this world's sin.

Once tempted by the greener grass,
well used by dog and cat,
I'm humbled now with just one whiff-
and sin is worse than that.

Don't laugh at me. It's just the way
this evil world turns.
So now I set my eyes on God.
My soul no longer yearns.

©2013 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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March 11, 2013

Show The Lord 3-11-13


Now everyone was nervous here.  It didn't make much sense. 
The Judge had entered quietly.  The room was very tense. 
"Let's only hear the gospel truth and accusations quench!
This court is now in session." said 'His Honor' from the bench. 

The 'Whip' was not at all deterred and spoke up suddenly, 
"Alive, He was, when I was done - untied and then set free! 
But I had noticed something else when He had left my place. 
I saw Him with the rugged 'Cross'.  Now there's your real case!" 

The 'Cross' responded bluntly and without an ounce of tact, 
"It wasn't me, Your Honor sir, and that is just a fact! 
I didn't do a single thing and really, I did care. 
I merely was the backdrop.  It's the 'Nails' that held Him there!" 

The 'Nails', three, were hence accused but chimed in unison, 
"It wasn't us who had Him killed (God's one and only Son). 
When all the three of us looked up, the truth had come to light - 
that wicked 'Crown' had pierced His scalp and made a gruesome sight!" 

It hushed, the crowd, who set their eyes on such a cruel 'Crown' - 
but it had sought the mercy of the Judge with sorry frown. 
And then it weaved so carefully a short and subtle lie, 
"It wasn't I who killed Him sir, the 'Whip' caused Him to die!" 

And so it was that blame was passed around, around again - 
so tell me, "What had killed Him then - just plain and simple sin?" 
So then that Judge, with piercing eye, had raised his brow at me, 
and said, "You are the guilty one!  I sentence you to be..." 

But then that very instant, a gentle voice was heard. 
The sound had calmed the courthouse down - and every heart was stirred. 
"Unbind those who've repented and were faithful through and through - 
for I have paid the highest price and saved their souls too." 

The Judge slammed down His gavel hard and said, "I will it so!" 
And that is where this story ends.  Are you prepared to go? 
The heart you have you made yourself.  You're humble or you're proud - 
so if acceptance you must have, you're lost among the crowd. 

Don't be the Whip, Cross, Nails or Crown who passed their guilt along - 
who tried to blame somebody else and claimed they did no wrong. 
How long has pride now stole your soul?  Days, weeks, or months, or years? 
Don't pass your guilt to someone else, but show the Lord some tears... 

©2013 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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March 4, 2013

Solid Rock 3-4-13


Some people have their head in a cloud
and some people climb on top.
Some people jump from cloud to cloud
and never seem to stop.

Some people dream a million dreams
and some people live to work.
Some people seek fun far and wide
where wages of sin lurk.

They're trapped in a fog of deceptive white
that floats on a hopeless air -
then sooner or later find out that
there's no foundation there.

For God is the only solid rock
where feet can be planted firm -
not in the clouds of 'here and now'
but eternity, long-term.

©2013 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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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

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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

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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

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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

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January 31, 2013

I Wander Yonder 1-31-13


I wander yonder over hills where those before me trod -
though aimlessly through wants and needs, yet find it somewhat odd.

I wander yonder guessing so and pay a heavy price -
by following some friends I have and words of ill-advice.

I wander yonder through my life and laugh along the way -
deceiving self, believing I am happy every day.

I wander yonder up until the day I get so old -
a speck of truth will be revealed that I had not been told.

I wander yonder 'til the time that I begin to ponder -
about God's good and loving Son, so full of grace and wonder.

©2013 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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January 29, 2013

Circle Of Love 1-29-13


. . . . and bring our love around again in selfless peace that has no end -
as with a circle bright and true, is love of fam'ly, love of friend -
though some may laugh while others grieve, forgiveness we can sure achieve,
through God's vast blessings scattered 'round so those in need can hence receive -
the Son of God who's virgin born - through whip and nails and piercing thorn -
our sacrifice, the ultimate - a perfect Savior, bloody, torn -
because God loved and likewise we, bring certain hope that others see -
these blessings of a risen Lord so that they too could also be
in peace that's pure as snowy dove while singing praise to God above -
while standing faithful hand in hand in this, our circle filled with love . . . .

©2013 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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Will The Circle Be Unbroken?
Lyrics
(written 1907 by Ada R. Habershon with music by Charles H. Gabriel)

There are loved ones in the glory
Whose dear forms you often miss.
When you close your earthly story,
Will you join them in their bliss?
(Chorus)
Will the circle be unbroken
By and by, by and by?
Is a better home awaiting
In the sky, in the sky?

In the joyous days of childhood
Oft they told of wondrous love
Pointed to the dying Saviour;
Now they dwell with Him above.
(Chorus)
Will the circle be unbroken
By and by, by and by?
Is a better home awaiting
In the sky, in the sky?


You remember songs of heaven
Which you sang with childish voice.
Do you love the hymns they taught you,
Or are songs of earth your choice?
(Chorus)
Will the circle be unbroken
By and by, by and by?
Is a better home awaiting
In the sky, in the sky?


You can picture happy gath'rings
Round the fireside long ago,
And you think of tearful partings
When they left you here below.
(Chorus)
Will the circle be unbroken
By and by, by and by?
Is a better home awaiting
In the sky, in the sky?


One by one their seats were emptied.
One by one they went away.
Now the family is parted.
Will it be complete one day?
(Chorus)
Will the circle be unbroken
By and by, by and by?
Is a better home awaiting
In the sky, in the sky?
---

Can The Circle Be Unbroken?
Lyrics
(`1935 - Carter family)

I was standing by my window
On one cold and cloudy day
And I saw the hearse come rolling
For to carry my mother away
(Chorus)
Can the circle be unbroken
Bye and bye, Lord, bye and bye
There's a better home a-waiting
In the sky, Lord, in the sky

Oh, I told the undertaker
Undertaker, please drive slow
For this body you are hauling
How I hate to see her go
(Chorus)
Can the circle be unbroken
Bye and bye, Lord, bye and bye
There's a better home a-waiting
In the sky, Lord, in the sky

Lord, I followed close beside her
Tried to hold up and be brave
But I could not hide my sorrow
When they laid her in the grave
(Chorus)
Can the circle be unbroken
Bye and bye, Lord, bye and bye
There's a better home a-waiting
In the sky, Lord, in the sky

Went back home Lord, My home was lonely
Since my mother she had gone
All my brothers, sisters crying
What a home so sad and lone
(Chorus)
Can the circle be unbroken
Bye and bye, Lord, bye and bye
There's a better home a-waiting
In the sky, Lord, in the sky

January 24, 2013

A Proud American! 1-24-13

---
This poem ain't a good one.
It may be crass and mean -
but if you read a few more lines,
you'll see what I have seen:
---

I care about appearance. I'll show off latest trends.
I'll change the way I talk and act impressing all my friends.

Don't call me dumb and stupid. I'm not a bit insane -
yet clueless as to pricing so I angrily complain.

First I waste my money on some foreign plastic toy -
and then complain there are no jobs in states like Illinois.

I vote for those who give me stuff like total free health care -
then think I won't be paying it (naively unaware)...

I want a king or emperor to handle my provisions -
tell me how to act and think and make all my decisions.

Don't call me dumb and stupid. I'm just confused with facts.
Just promise me more goodies now. The rich can pay my tax.

Just deposit, every month, some cash to my account -
and I'll be so contented. Keep track of my amount!

The 'Bill of Rights" I'll never need - so scrap them all today.
I'm in a state of ecstasy when I hear what you say.

Wow! Every time I hear you speak, my knees begin to go.
I faint within your promises - oh, how I love you so!

Abortion I don't care about as long as it's not me.
Allow me my vacations so that I can feel free!

My 1st amendment, I can't use. Why bother I, to preach -
that people ought not kill or steal? ( 'cause that's for you to teach ).

And I don't need the 2nd so protect me from my gun.
 Should someone point a gun at me, I'll just call 9-1-1.

"Search and seizures" - what are they? You're welcome anytime -
and I won't flush the toilet even once if it's a crime.

The 9th amendment's silly. I have no need for rights -
(nor my responsibilities) - so stop these petty fights.

The 10th amendment, I nix too, awaiting your dictates.
Let's call ourselves "United" and eliminate the "States".

United, we'll be holding hands as one huge human chain -
and simply jump the border here if we spin down the drain.

Though foreign countries snicker, I'll vote again for you.
For I'm a proud American. My insolence shines through!

©2013 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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January 22, 2013

Stalking Us 1-22-13


You follow me and haunt me
in terrorizing ways.
Your silence keeps me guessing here
in my most frightened gaze.

Sometimes you stalk me from my left -
and sometimes from my right.
Sometimes you're right in front of me -
or just beyond my sight.

Sometimes taller, you appear,
intimidatingly -
and every day I see you here,
I simply want to flee.

To add some distance, I sometimes
accelerate my pace.
Yet matters not, my quickened step,
I can't increase the space.

You march 'lock-step' along with me
and blatantly impede -
my privacy and liberties
exacting my same speed.

I get enraged and shake my fists -
but you make your fists too.
Once and for all, I'd be so glad
to rid myself of you.

You hang around me mimicking!
I plead with you - just GO!!
I find myself at my wit's end
escaping my own shadow.

Oh yes, just like our shadows,
temptation follows us -
stalking us where e'er we go.
That's why we need Jesus.

©2013 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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January 12, 2013

Reminiscing 1-12-13


Something way down deep inside
my lost and lonely soul -
had eaten me until I died
of all my self-control.

Then someone special lent a hand
that I did not deserve -
and touched an inner fragile strand -
a close and tender nerve.

I knew not what to make of it -
that kind, unselfish act.
My knees got weak and I admit -
was thankful.  That's a fact.

And then I sensed a flicker as
a flame on candle waves -
and saw their bumper sticker
that read, "Smile!  Jesus Saves!"

Then something in my reddened eyes
had made it hard to see -
choked up, I was, and all my cries
came pouring out of me.

So stunned in awe, I stopped to think
of all I'm guilty of.
I know my sin - once set in ink -
was wiped away with love.

Now, reminiscing has a way
to judge my many years -
so hymns in church on Sunday's now -
still well my eyes with tears.

©2013 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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January 10, 2013

Obeyed? 1-10-13

Here is another true story poem (summer 1934)
about my grandmother (Ida) and my mother (Ruth)
who traveled every day between their farm at North Clayton, Wisconsin
to to deliver cream to Soldier's Grove as told to me by my mother.
(Told in 'first person' from my mother's perspective...)


I had got on and sat upon our wagon load of goods.
all set to view the country hue on rustic road through woods.
But mom said no, I couldn't go.  I rarely ever stayed -
but this time did so down I slid.  I'm glad that I obeyed.

Our old wagon, always saggin' had rough, rugged boards -
but it did hold that precious load as she had started towards -
the creamery - a guarantee - of how we paid our bills -
in such a life, excessive strife - through vale against the hills.

She left that day on road of clay delivering with care -
four dusty mile - with grimaced smile - and cream that must get there.
Familiar sounds - some barking hounds, a crow up in a tree -
and tough routine, unlike a queen, that she would never see.

Out of the blue without a clue -around a curve and hill -
a drunken guy - flew passing by - like she was sitting still -
then ripped the side of Topsy's hide and threw mom off her seat.
She landed hard, but not too scarred, between the horses feet.

Though somewhat numb, she scrambled some from under hooves and wheels.
A bit perplexed, what happened next - she scrambled and did feel,
a massive rock where she took stock and hid as God provides.
Protected there in silent prayer from grace that never hides.

Some seconds spent, bewilderment, that held them there at bay -
so trampled not, she never got - before they ran away.
She tried to nurse ol' Topsy's curse.  Oh, why did God allow -
old Topsy's death with its last breath and further hardships now?

The wagon load could not be sold.  I thought that I would scream.
But mama taught that I ought not - to cry over spilled cream.
Is life not fair?  Does God not care?  Well, mama knew His way...
Obeyed was why - so safe was I.  She thanked the Lord that day.

I had got on and sat upon our wagon load of goods.
all set to view the country hue on rustic road through woods.
But mom said no, I couldn't go.  I rarely ever stayed -
but this time did so down I slid - and glad that I obeyed.

©2013 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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January 7, 2013

Life Was... 1-7-13

(A true story poem from the summer of 1934 in
Wisconsin as told to me by my mother, Ruth)


Worked like a mule, when not in school, below the scorching sun.
I couldn't treat my calloused feet.  My work was never done.

Near idle plows, I milked the cows.  A barn, we didn't have -
but under stars, the land was ours and where our cows would calve.

With weary hands I filled the cans.  Their tails they would flick -
and sting my eyes while swatting flies.  Then bucket, they would kick.

Two hours flat, was done with that, from my familiar stool.
The cows backed off their drinking trough where I put milk to cool.

The morning after, I worked faster, hitching up the team.
One called Nancy, the other Topsy - hauled our milk and cream.

Those two old nags had swayback sags.  They were a stubborn lot.
I must confess, they lacked finesse.  Race horses, they were not.

The wagon bad, but all we had, so up my brother climbed.
The little whelp was not much help, but "Giddy-up!" he chimed.

As we would sing, the cans would cling the four miles into town.
Population:  Twenty seven - but that's if we're around.

With morning sun, that work was done - but now, another day.
We'd fertilize while bread would rise and maybe stack some hay.

I always worked - and never shirked - my duties.  I was nine.
But God gave strength to me at length - and life was truly fine.

©2013 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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