"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 19, 2015

Tulips and Roses 2-19-15


Right under our noses
are tulips and roses.
There's no place that I'd rather be.
And if you come hither
you'll find they won't wither
for God surely loves you and me.

A rainbow of colors
are splattered on flowers
that all of creation can see.
And when they're a-blooming,
exquisite perfuming
enhances His paintings for me.

The world won't believe Him,
far out on their tree limb.
Opinions are having their say.
They make me so dizzy
because they're so busy
and can't find eternity's way.

I know you would rather
join with me and gather
up armfuls of rainbow's bouquets -
and inside His painting
enjoy His creating
the rest of eternity's days.

So join me and jump in
to painting, born again,
where flowering landscapes are true.
Here living with respect
is Heavenly perfect
in vibrant and colorful hue.

Right under our noses
are tulips and roses.
There's no place that I'd rather be.
And if you come hither
you'll find they won't wither
for God really loves you and me,
for God really loves you and me.

©2015 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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I Corinthians 13:13 (NASB)
"...but the greatest of these is love."

February 16, 2015

As Darkness Falls 2-16-15


The sun's at rest
upon the west -
as lighted pathway fades.
Today I'm lost, so what's the cost for all my sick charades?

The bottom line:
Decisions?  Mine,
though future couldn't see.
I ventured off the straight and narrow pathway meant for me.

I can''t embark.
It's awful dark.
Time spurns to take me back.
Oh, how had I been led astray by winding pathways black?

Some say that no
one's perfect so,
"it doesn't matter much".
But that's not what the Savior said with cross and thorns and such.

He suffered there
in anguish where
His love could cover men -
and faithfully had paid my debt upon that cross of sin.

On grieving face
was matchless grace
so I could be set free -
but stubbornly I trod my long and winding path... for me.

Now here I stand
as owls land.
Life skates along its way.
I'm lonely, very lonely here a-midst my final day.

So what's the cost?
Today, I'm lost.
I've had so many fears.
The darkness falls.  'Forever' calls as pathway disappears.

©2015 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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Matthew 24: 10-13 (NASB)
10 At that time many will fall away and will betray one another and hate one another.
11 Many false prophets will arise and will mislead many.
12 Because lawlessness is increased, most people’s love will grow cold.
13 But the one who endures to the end, he will be saved.

February 13, 2015

Intentionally Left Blank 2-13-15


I look through all my papers.
I search but cannot find.
Exploring notes and all my files,
I hunt my absent mind.

But I can't find them anywhere.
I seek throughout the day.
I cannot sleep as stars come out
Have I something to say?

I'd like to write of God above
and all His majesty.
Unless I take the time to pray,
those words will never be.

But I can't find the words to use.
Thoughts pierce me like a knife.
My life could be much better if
pure words rhymed with my life.

Escapes me, too, the letters
that float away on streams,
winding through the rapids fast,
that disappear with dreams.

Oh, how can rhyming phrases flow
and sentences galore -
when I can't find mere letters here?
My phrases come no more.

If only I could find them...
the words, so you could know 'em,
then I could write the stanzas down
in one breathtaking poem.

Instead, I search inside myself.
With absent prayers, my words -
just float away on rivers or
are carried off with birds...

So here I sit with naught to say,
so let me just be frank.
Who'd care to read another line?
(intentionally left blank)

©2015 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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February 1, 2015

Find the Butterfly (song lyrics) 2-1-15


I wanted to be different,
I wanted to be free,
I wanted something special but
I simply couldn't see.
For I was blind to peace of mind -
through clouds it'd never be.
How could I find the butterfly in me?
How could I find the butterfly in me?

On beach, so sad, I lonely was.
A large, dark storm cloud said,
"Your shore is very empty and
your soul is all but dead."
The waves crashed and - soaked in the sand
but truth soaked not in head,
and blackness washed my beauty out instead,
and blackness washed my beauty out instead.

My footprints weren't forever and
they didn't last long-term.
I sought to be so happy but
the sand just wasn't firm.
The hint I saw had dropped my jaw
but sun could not confirm.
My life was like a lowly, ugly worm.
My life was like a lowly, ugly worm.

I wanted to be happy and
be satisfied by noon.
I wanted to be joyous too
and laugh that afternoon.
I tried to fly high in the sky,
like colorful balloon -
and not confined to my dark, dead cocoon,
and not confined to my dark, dead cocoon.

Reality descended then
down to a weathered dock.
It's usefulness was gone and all -
its boards were stumb'ling blocks.
I couldn't halt nor could I fault
the waves upon heart's rock -
and time flew by with ticking of the clock,
and time flew by with ticking of the clock.

The angry sky had thundered then.
I heard the ocean's din.
I couldn't see creation or
the higher tide begin.
I searched my mind but couldn't find -
for nothing had sunk in -
while ocean's truth still splashed upon my sin,
while ocean's truth still splashed upon my sin.

Then lost and wand'ring aimlessly,
along some pine and birch,
my pride had died in front of an
abandoned country church.
I walked inside, but couldn't hide.
My soul was in the lurch -
but that had ended my long journey's search,
but that had ended my long journey's search.

My tears flowed as a river there.
I dropped down to my knees.
T'was then I saw some color like
the autumn's rainbow leaves.
My God above sent ocean's love,
His grace was as the seas -
and now this butterfly floats on the breeze,
and now this butterfly floats on the breeze.

If you confess that you're a worm,
repent in your cocoon,
then God has promised all His grace
and you'll become immune.
And by and by, your butterfly
will spread its wings and soon -
will glide on rainbow leaves to sunset's moon,
will glide on rainbow leaves to sunset's moon.

So if you find the butterfly
that's born again in you,
then you, my friend, have Jesus and
shall fly to Heaven too.
Agape love from God above
bares rainbow's brilliant hue -
and brings eternal joy to pull you through,
and brings eternal joy to pull you through.

©2015 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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1 John 1:9 (NASB)
If we confess our sins, He is faithful and righteous to forgive us our sins and
to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.

Acts 2:38 (NASB)
Peter said to them, “Repent, and each of you be baptized in the name of Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of your sins; and you will receive the gift of the Holy Spirit.

January 21, 2015

Souls 1-21-15


I watch a dozen leaves or so
out circling on the drive -
reminding me of people who
no longer are alive.

To be content, they'll money earn.
They'll dress the part and bow -
because they are unsatisfied
of where they are right now.

Though deep into the winter,
they seem, in breeze, so dizzy.
Swirling 'round in circles cold,
they all seem very busy.

They don't take time for other folks
or problems they might bear.
They cannot empathize with them.
They rarely ever care.

So here outside my humble room,
outside my window sill,
I see them blowing 'round and 'round
with great deceptive skill.

They idolize their happiness
and idolize each need.
They idolize each fantasy
and idolize their greed.

So colorful before they fell,
now brown and curled and dry,
they aren't yet buried 'neath the snow -
and only God knows why.

Although their minds are thinking,
although their bodies fed,
although their hearts are beating -
their souls?  Completely dead.

I watch a dozen leaves or so
out circling on the drive -
reminding me of people who
no longer are alive.

©2015 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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