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

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

-------

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

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

-------

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

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

-------

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

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

-------

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

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

-------