"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 20, 2011

To Heaven's Doors 2-20-11


What is music to the deaf?
What are rainbows to the blind?
What are shoes worn by the lame?
What mere words can so define...
a special Son,
sent to a cross,
in a world,
forever lost?

What are dollars to a horse?
What are needles without thread?
What are tears without our grief?
What are Bibles to the dead?
Our ears must hear.
Our eyes must see.
Beyond the graves
our faith must be.

His loving grace,
forever pours -
draws walking faith,
to Heaven's doors.
Words are pathways,
nothing more.
There's Someone we
must cry out for.

©2011 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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January 27, 2011

Knocks And Locks 1-23-11


How can we expect our God
to open Heaven's locks -
when we ignore His Son who stands
at our heart's door and knocks?

©2011 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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Revelation 3:19-21 (KJV)

 19As many as I love, I rebuke and chasten: be zealous therefore, and repent.
 20Behold, I stand at the door, and knock: if any man hear my voice, and open the door, I will come in to him, and will sup with him, and he with me.
 21To him that overcometh will I grant to sit with me in my throne, even as I also overcame, and am set down with my Father in his throne.

January 23, 2011

One And Only 1-23-11


One day soon we'll leave this world -
this world of wicked sin -
so where's the key to Heaven's Gate,
that we may step right in?

It isn't found in idols,
in silver, gold or wood -
It isn't found inside a prayer,
nor through intentions, good.

It isn't found in our career,
nor through some unclaimed perk -
It isn't found by our own hands,
nor through our greatest work.

It isn't found in churches,
or found inside a hymn.
It isn't found in human thoughts
nor through our newest whim.

It's not found in theology,
nor through man's greatest book.
It's found in yet another place -
...if only we would look.

God created just one key,
to fit in locks designed,
to hold the gate to Heaven shut -
and it's the one to find.

Heaven's gate accepts one key -
and it's the only one -
forged by grace and turned with faith
in His begotten Son.

Heaven's gate, forever locked
and firmly shut, will be -
unless within our heart we hold
that one and only key.

©2011 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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January 17, 2011

Joyful Tears 1-17-11


In quantities, our teardrops fall,
they drip off sorry faces -
resulting from our broken hearts.
We save them in our vases -
for yet another lofty dream -
another selfish rose.
Is anyone the wiser?
Tell me no one knows.

And here, our vases set alone,
still filled with empty dreams.
Oh, everybody has them -
it's just the way, it seems.
It's popularity for some -
for others; riches, gold.
But when it's over, said and done,
their rose is dead and cold.

The tears we shed are endless,
and from our souls drawn.
We water every selfish want -
then later wish them gone.
We hold our very special vase -
we think of only 'me' -
but rather where still waters are -
our tears of joy should be.

Do roses last forever?
There is a day they die -
then scattered are the pieces of
the heart that happened by.
Lost pieces, scattered everywhere -
forever, broken are -
and at the end of shattered dreams,
there's one eternal scar.

When in, our earthly dreams, we live,
regret is always sure -
for when we grow our selfish rose,
it simply won't endure.
I often wonder why we work,
and waste away the years -
accomplishing so little with
such lonely, painful tears.

So walk beside still waters.
Through joyful tears you'll see -
a love that never wavers and,
a grace that's always free.
And if your faith is watered
and grows from day to day -
there's really nothing more to do -
for joyful is the way!

©2011 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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January 11, 2011

The Strongest Man 1-11-11


When we are asked, "Who's stronger?"
we think so 'physical'.
We often think of Sampson -
not strength within the skull.

The strongest Man who ever lived -
had not a fist fight won -
but He had conquered challenges
and never quit 'til done.

He handled every mocking
and hateful, slimy spit.
He handled every whipping
while skin from scourging split.

Stronger was the 'weaker' Man,
who walked a lonely road.
Wearing thorns, they mocked Him and,
collapsed He, under load.

Huge nails set His hands and feet,
while teeth were tightly grit -
but never had He wavered.
He never once had quit.

Screams may echo over hills,
against the stormy skies -
but stronger is the faithful Man -
despite His painful cries.

Many brag and pound their chest -
their muscles, we can see -
but where you hear the loudest cry,
the stronger Man will be.

©2011 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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December 24, 2010

Footprints Found 12-24-10


From birth, thrown in a frightful scene,
as life unveils its scroll.
We travel to and fro until
a pathway finds our soul.
Our days are dark and dreary.
Our nights are long and cold.
But here on earth we break our trail -
until we all grow old.

...

I broke my lonely pathway.
I traveled all alone -
and it, a unique pathway -
none else had ever known.
I traveled my own pathway.
I'd everything to lose.
But no one knew my pathway and -
no one wore my shoes.

One day I happened on a trail
aside from sin and hate -
but few were drawn onto it -
so narrow and so straight.
And on it I saw footprints,
that wavered, not the least.
I followed them most carefully
though problems never ceased.

That pathway found no safety -
and I had questioned 'why?'.
I heard the growling animals.
Black vultures circled high.
A lion jumped in front of me.
I froze - my faith devoid.
My goal, career and future were
virtually destroyed.

I heard loud screams from others -
more painful shrieks and cries -
and yes, I still was frightened -
not cloaked from sin and lies.
A jungled mess of selfishness,
a shadowed woods misguided -
drove the anger ever close.
My fear had not subsided.

Yet... steady still, those footprints.
They wavered not a bit.
They never once had faltered.
That 'someone' never quit.
I stopped and rested quite awhile,
then carried on again.
Faith had urged me onward so -
to flee from evils sin.

Still wavered not, those footprints,
still spaced the same apart -
this 'Someone' had a purpose,
this 'Someone' had a heart.
They led straight to a clearing.
It was so peaceful there.
I stopped and saw a beauty, to
which nothing could compare.

My mouth fell open, as to speak.
Mere words were at a loss.
I saw those faithful footprints aim -
directly to a cross.
Then clumsily, I stumbled -
I grasped that mighty tree.
My 'little faith' reached for support,
until grace lifted me.

'Born again', I was that day,
when I was made complete.
I hugged that bloody, splintered cross -
'til back upon my feet.
And yes, my eyes were opened.
Spilt blood had left the hint.
For clearly seen in crimson was -
His faithful, final print.

...

God sees us run in circles as,
we leave prints deep in clay.
He sees our every footprint as -
we're lost along the way;
Our path is never narrow,
nor straightway Heaven-bound -
and feet are either on our paths -
or in His footprints found.

©2010 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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Matthew 7:14 (King James Version)
Because strait is the gate, and narrow is the way,
which leadeth unto life, and few there be that find it.

November 27, 2010

Too Little, Too Late 11-27-10

A homeless mom - some food can't buy,
she looks for work - but I don't cry.
I've my career, white shirt and tie.
I have my job. I cannot cry.

A thirsty boy, with mouth so dry.
The streets are hot - but I don't cry.
Don't questions ask, and don't ask 'why'.
I have my bills. I cannot cry.

Handicapped girl, about to die,
she goes unseen - so I don't cry.
That I don't care - please don't imply.
I'm much too rushed. I cannot cry.

The sermons heard week after week -
but still no tear runs down my cheek.
But I will try, as days go by -
some day I'll care and surely cry.

How many suffered is unclear.
Was selfish I, year after year?
One day [before my God] I'll stand -
when it's too late to understand.

For God shall hear another cry.
He'll see another infant die.
And then He'll hear and see me try -
to bring a tear to my dry eye...

©2010 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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Luke 11:40-42 (NASB)
40 "You foolish ones, did not He who made the outside make the inside also?
41 "But give that which is within as charity, and then all things are clean for you.
42 "But woe to you Pharisees!
For you pay tithe of mint and rue and every kind of garden herb,
and yet disregard justice and the love of God;
but these are the things you should have done without neglecting the others...."

November 22, 2010

Diamond's Glitter 11-22-10


Breezes and the sun can make -
diamonds shimmer on the lake.
Jewels seen but can't be touched,
can't be clutched -
and always fake.

Running to and fro and hither -
never call a man a quitter -
finding glimmer on the waves,
like busy slaves -
chasing glitter.

With every single passing cloud -
that floats on by, that laughs out loud -
at mans feeble, vain attempt,
in full contempt -
the rich and proud.

The root of evil, Satan's tools,
reveals imitation jewels -
then proves beyond a shadow's doubt,
a wisdom drought -
from greedy fools.

So please observe creation, vast -
clouds move slowly, time moves fast.
Don't let Earth's jewels make you thirst -
put others first,
and put you last...

as Jesus did upon the tree,
the sacrifice, for you, for me.
Pass by the glimmers on the lake -
those diamonds, fake.
His Spirit, free.

©2010 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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October 31, 2010

God Knows 10-31-10


When churches fall away from God,
when theology is focused cause,
when government turns back on you,
when they create acidic laws,

when business can't get any worse,
when banks and vendors receive bail,
when bills aren't paid and debts go up,
when you, though innocent, will fail,

when even friends have gone astray,
when each mistake is yours to claim,
when heavy skies come crushing down,
when you take every speck of blame,

when children do not talk to you,
when arms are present, not the hug,
when spouse seems very distant too,
when deep in every hole dug,

when rain comes down, in buckets pour,
when clouds are whipped and tempest tossed,
when friendly wagging tail stops,
when even your best dog is lost,

when all seems dead and all seems grave,
when all you've done has been a curse,
when none can help, though say they care,
when all goes sour, bad to worse,

when life proves fragile, hopeless too,
when everything gets out of hand -
remember, God knows every truth,
and will, forever, understand.

©2010 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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Matthew 19:28-30 (NASB)
28 And Jesus said to them, "Truly I say to you, that you who have followed Me, in the regeneration when the Son of Man will sit on His glorious throne, you also shall sit upon twelve thrones, judging the twelve tribes of Israel.

29 "And everyone who has left houses or brothers or sisters or father or mother or children or farms for My name's sake, will receive many times as much, and will inherit eternal life.

30 "But many who are first will be last; and the last, first."

October 10, 2010

My Grandma's Way 10-10-10


Above all things, above the sky -
like a balloon that's sailing high.
This perspective, Heaven's view -
and here above, God sees all too.

Over rainbows, cottony clouds -
and back a-ways too, I think out loud -
to greener times, to early days -
to simpler life and better ways.

Far down below in memory etched,
at grandma's house, her clothes line stretched.
I saw clothes hung in certain space,
as clothes pins held each one in place.

In standard form, no wind could jilt -
the smallest sock or largest quilt.
Though Grandma's clothes would often dance,
that wicked wind had ne'r a chance.

It all was simple, very fine,
when grandma took clothes off her line.
And though were dried in simple care,
today her words just wouldn't dare.

Some green-enviro talking heads,
(while separating whites and reds),
might brag while more pollutions spew,
while leaning on their dryers, new.

Though grandma's tongue was as a whip -
"just like a bee sting" we would quip -
her honest, tight and sanctioned deeds,
had filled a life, fulfilling needs.

Her winter canned goods kept us fed,
and she had extra, neighbors said.
Her flower bed received great care,
with colored roses everywhere.

She had no debt, (no card for sure),
worked very hard, had character.
She saved her pennies, saved her dimes -
but lost it all (inflated times...)

....

I soon descend. Balloon deflates,
to current times, to current dates -
and see a truth of future dim,
while looking out where life is grim.

A time of envy, want and fist,
a time when freedoms can't exist.
A time and place that makes man sweat -
where deeds go limp and eyes go wet.

All mortgaged off - Miss Liberty,
Mount Rushmore too, as I can see.
And also mortgaged, please discern -
the parks and trees. Too late we'll learn.

Each public asset, private too,
will all be seized when overdue.
Our current assets we have bled -
and future income 'til we're dead.

Simmering slowly, each tax rate -
will come to boil when it's too late.
Our blood will cover how much ground,
for basic freedoms, next time 'round?

Lust and envy, pride and greed -
raw love of money, root and seed.
While we're sold off, piece after piece -
in massive debt, our freedoms cease.

This Nation's great and standing tall,
of people proud, before their fall.
Piece after piece, we each are cursed -
and this is slavery at its worst.

These newer ways got out of line,
and of the times, this is the sign.
While grandma's way was always fair -
but try her way? They wouldn't dare!

Now all alone with assets few -
her farm is gone, the fields too.
Her bank bankrupt. A brand new dawn -
with neighbors and her savings gone.

Though once so blind, I couldn't see.
She had her ways - now her ways, me.
At times a quiet tear she shed,
remembering her loved rose bed.

The shirt they took was really mine,
that once hung there on grandma's line.
Soon lost forever, I do say -
if we can't live my grandma's way.

©2010 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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