Gander Story Poems

June 26, 2011

The Garden Of Eden 6-26-11

The Garden of Eden, perfect...

Not because the trees there had

so many tasty fruits,

not because the roadways had

the smoothest, shortest routes.

Not because they had new cars,

and pleasure-drove for miles,

not because the malls had sold

the latest fig-leaf styles.

Not because their bank accounts

had endless lines of cash,

not because computers didn't

ever, ever crash.

Not because the stores there gave

them everything for free,

not because the weather was

a constant seventy.

Not because attorneys there

would never, ever sue,

not because the skies there were

a perfect, bluish hue.

Not because the locks on doors

had solid gold keys,

and not because the oceans had

the perfect rolling seas.

Is perfection for our comfort,

that God so amply serves -

or for our reverent, humble prayers

that He so much deserves?

The Garden of Eden - perfect,

but after poor advice,

God had to send His only Son -

our perfect sacrifice.

http:/www.ganderpoems.org/

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June 18, 2011

A Poet 6-18-11

A poet writes no poems
despite a great design,

despite the countless hours,

despite the finest line.

Although we pray and meditate,

although the writing's fun,

although we may be gifted,

we can't write even one.

A poem's written long before

a poet lifts his pen -

and sets on paper solemn thoughts

that's given him from Heaven.

For God sends bits of wisdom,

that sprinkle from above -

as He rains down His blessings

and great, eternal love.

http:/www.ganderpoems.org/

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Proverbs 2: 1-10 (NASB)
1 My son, if you will receive my words
And treasure my commandments within you,
2 Make your ear attentive to wisdom,
Incline your heart to understanding;
3 For if you cry for discernment,

Lift your voice for understanding;
4 If you seek her as silver
And search for her as for hidden treasures;
5 Then you will discern the fear of the LORD
And discover the knowledge of God.
6 For the LORD gives wisdom;
From His mouth come knowledge and understanding.
7 He stores up sound wisdom for the upright;
He is a shield to those who walk in integrity,
8 Guarding the paths of justice,
And He preserves the way of His godly ones.
9 Then you will discern righteousness and justice
And equity and every good course.
10 For wisdom will enter your heart
And knowledge will be pleasant to your soul;

June 11, 2011

Worst Man In The World? 6-11-11

The worst man in the world?

Now here's a little quiz...

You wonder what he plans all day?

You wonder who he is?

Who next, could be his target,

and What does he derive?

Where could he be living -

and when does he connive?

Full of anger, vengeance,

and filled with evil malice -

he's certainly indignant.

Hate overflows his chalice.

He doesn't speak with 'forked' tongue,

but tongue split into thirds.

Full of pomp, he'll surely be -

as hot air fills his words.

Full of condescension -

with puffed up head of pride.

His shadow marches step in step,

with presidential stride.

His hands do all the devil's work,

his actions chilling, cold.

His heart is hard as granite stone,

which hurts both young and old -

I had given up myself -

my thinking twisted, curled -

it puzzled me, I couldn't find

the worst man in the world...

I sought once more through window,

and thought, "Where could he be" -

but then found him in mirror and,

he said, "It isn't me!".

The worst man in the world?

Well, maybe I am not -

but I'm my own worst enemy -

who God forgives a lot.

http:/www.ganderpoems.org/

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June 8, 2011

Comfortable? 6-7-11

Was He in comforts of His home

or in a quiet place -

did He have friends supporting Him

or sleeping in disgrace?

Now did He have a multitude,

and did a riot start -

or did He stand in court alone

with still and quiet heart?

Or did He turn His AC on

while in His leather seat -

or was the load too heavy for

His sore and dusty feet?

Did He have mega speakers that

impressed all of His peers -

or did He hear the insults that

had pierced His humble ears?

Oh, did He have His cocktails or

His open soda cans -

or was He holding something else

in torn and painful hands?

New shoes are quite impressive for

the upper-class elite -

or were new shoes not needed with

that nail that pierced His feet?

Did He have vibrant roses, bright,

and crimson sky that warns -

or was the red that streaked His face,

from unforgiving thorns?

Did He receive great pleasures in

all that He could consume -

or was He the great sacrifice

who laid inside a tomb?

The world cannot be bothered with,

these things that sound so grim -

but if we love our comforts so,

we can't give all to Him.

http:/www.ganderpoems.org/

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I SURRENDER ALL

All to Jesus I surrender,
All to Him I freely give;
I will ever love and trust Him,
In His presence daily live.

I surrender all,
I surrender all.
All to Thee, my blessed Savior,
I surrender all.

All to Jesus I surrender,
Humbly at His feet I bow,
Worldly pleasures all forsaken;
Take me, Jesus, take me now.

All to Jesus I surrender,
Make me, Savior, wholly Thine;
Let me feel Thy Holy Spirit,
Truly know that Thou art mine.

All to Jesus I surrender,
Lord, I give myself to Thee;
Fill me with Thy love and power,
Let Thy blessing fall on me.

All to Jesus I surrender,
Now I feel the sacred flame.
Oh, the joy of full salvation!
Glory, glory to His name!

Words by Judson W. Van DeVenter, 1896:

":The song was written while I was conducting a meeting at East

Palestine, Ohio, in the home of George Sebring (founder of the

Sebring Campmeeting Bible Conference in Sebring, Ohio, and later

developer of the town of Sebring, Florida). For some time, I had

struggled between developing my talents in the field of art and going

into full-time evangelistic work. At last the pivotal hour of my life

came, and I surrendered all. A new day was ushered into my life. I

became an evangelist and discovered down deep in my soul a talent

hitherto unknown to me. God had hidden a song in my heart, and

touching a tender chord, He caused me to sing."

June 4, 2011

I Wonder 6-4-11

Sometimes I wonder how a tree

can stand the way it does -

so crooked, gnarled and twisted.

I wonder what it was...

What made it lean way over -

its shallow roots in mud?

Or was its last encounter a -

tornado? lightning? flood?

Though I am not an expert,

and haven't much, a clue -

I've often looked at people,

and wondered how they grew.

Opinions leaning way too far

with grumpy, creaking sounds -

they're true, 'un-timbered' miracles

with such unbalanced pounds.

But God still pours out blessings.

His grace forever flows -

and nourishes the lazy root -

no matter how it grows.

Sometimes I wonder how a man

can stand the way he does -

so crooked, gnarled and twisted.

I wonder what it was...

It Matters 6-3-11

Who hugs the little children,

abused and all alone -

if no one cares to look for them?

Real, but yet unknown.

Who hugs the hurting mothers,

(for many have been used) -

if no one cares to look for them?

Real, but yet abused.

Who hugs the unborn babies -

discarded in the trash?

Can life be kissed back into them -

or brought back with our cash?

So many different ways, there are -

that powerful abort -

the old, the young, the innocent,

who have their lives cut short.

The weak, the sick, the handicapped,

are also not exempt -

from those who hold lives in their hands,

below their deep contempt.

The rest of us just sit around,

as if we do not care -

but if their target's placed on us?

"Oh no, they wouldn't dare!"

Focused, if we are, on self,

then we will never see -

an end to all the violence and...

more victims there will be.

Decisions have been rendered.

The damage has been done -

though maybe not affecting us,

it matters to each one.

For God so loved the world.
He listens to each prayer.
He knows if talk is just mere words -
or if each we really care.

Please Vote Responsibly!

©2011 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http:/www.ganderpoems.org/

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June 3, 2011

My Awesome God 6-3-11

Fanny Crosby 1820-1915

I smell the fragrance of the pines

and hear each nature sound.

Something envelopes my thoughts.

Creation's all around.

I sit for several hours but

I can't a sentence write.

Will I be trying hours more,

to write throughout the night?

You'd have to wear some special shoes

to see my unique view -

yet empty are the words I find

explaining God to you.

So try to close your eyes awhile -

in patience. It's alright.

I'll pray that angels sprinkle words

to help me say this right...

If you could see His miracles

in all I've been forgiven -

if you could also understand the gifts

to me, that He has given -

I wouldn't need to write one word.

His light, you'd finally see -

and understand my awesome God,

though you aren't blind like me.

http:/www.ganderpoems.org/

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Written as I'm reminded of Fanny Crosby (1820-1915), a blind poet who wrote nearly 9,000 poems/hymns such as “Pass me not, O gentle Saviour,” “Sweet hour of prayer,” “Safe in the arms of Jesus,” “All the way my Saviour leads me,” “Jesus is tenderly calling thee home,” “I am thine, O Lord,” “Rescue the perishing,” “Speed away,” “Blessed assurance, Jesus is mine,” and “Jesus keep me near the Cross"..

Once a Scotch minister remarked to her, “I think it is a great pity that the Master, when He showered so many gifts upon you, did not give you sight.”
She answered: “Do you know that, if at birth I had been able to make one petition to my Creator, it would have been that I should be made blind?”
“Why?” asked the surprised preacher.
“Because, when I get to heaven, the first face that shall ever gladden my sight will be that of my Saviour.”*

*Moseley H. Williams, The Sunday School World, (Lesson for Aug. 19, 1900 The man born blind, Applications and Illustrations) pg. 302

May 31, 2011

Heaven Help Us! 5-31-11

Whether a grown-up, a child, or a teen -

We want to be noticed, we want to be seen.

We buy a new auto, with soft leather seats -

or buy a new wardrobe that nobody beats..

But buying top brands at all the best stores -

is just simply futile if showing our drawers.

Our pants must be pulled up with shirt tucked down in -

and must walk with stature, as dignified men.

Ingrained are small habits in ways we have found -

to draw the attention of folks all around.

But I am much better than all of the rest.

There's no need to ask me. I'm simply the best.

And seldom - oh, seldom - so seldom I see -

a person more humble - more humble than me.

I don't spit tobacco, gossip, or 'cuss' -

so please, Heaven help them - to notice Jesus.

http:/www.ganderpoems.org/

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May 29, 2011

Each Minute 5-29-11

When things go good,

and all is well -

there is no thought

or fear of hell.

But when things change,

and death is tasted -

regret, we will,

each minute wasted.

The Mighty Floodgates 5-29-11

Speared I am, right through the heart.

My soul awakes,

my pencil shakes,

my paper takes...

the thoughts I've never wrote before.

I don't know why,

my eyes were dry,

I couldn't cry.

My former heart was cold and hard -

I did not know,

the melting snow,

the sunset's glow...

and found, I too, a reservoir -

of many years,

a wall of tears,

as flooding nears.

So sought I tear, where soft and warm -

among the weak,

among the meek,

on Jesus' cheek...

where it dripped down upon the ground -

where there was loss,

and there was dross,

beneath the cross.

So now it's soft, my broken heart -

a world stain,

a greater pain,

is greater gain -

and the mighty floodgates opened -

and now know why,

my eyes aren't dry,

and I can cry.

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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May 28, 2011

Welcome Home! 5-28-11

The prodigal son,

took his share and run.

The world revolves around Rome?

Provisions ran out,

as he ran about -

but his father said, "Welcome Home!"

Decorations done,

another war won.

The world revolves around Rome?

With Serviceman's grin,

he entered therein,

then heard them all shout, "Welcome Home!"

Once under clover,

all will be over.

The world revolves around Rome?

In blink of an eye,

I know I will cry,

when Jesus proclaims, "Welcome Home!"

http:/www.ganderpoems.org/

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May 27, 2011

Why You? 5-27-11

When liars win, life isn't fair -

not one will ever, ever care -

life's burdens are too much to bear.

Why me Lord?

I stand down by the ocean shore -

the poison seeps down to my core -

there's none who listen anymore -

Why me Lord?

My love grew cold, my anger hot -

my gut twists in each kind of knot -

it pains me so, an awful lot -

Why me Lord?

The ocean waves still seem to race -

they crest, then spill most anyplace -

but waves ignore my grieving face -

Why me Lord?

My problems grew and come to meet -

as water wraps around my feet -

I'm tired, exhausted, very beat -

Why me Lord?

The waves roll in for years and years -

through all my trials, all my fears -

my cheeks have felt so many tears -

Why me Lord?

My heart, for others, has out-poured -

yet something pulls on my heart's cord -

of everyone who I've ignored -

Why You Lord?

http:/www.ganderpoems.org/

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May 25, 2011

My Fuel 5-25-11

Whoa! I take a second look!

I turned my head and eyed -

the sleekness of the sporty lines.

Now that's a fancy ride!

Shiny chrome and glossy wheels,

style, impressive too.

So numerous, the gadgets -

great quality clear through.

The leather seats, the clock and cruise,

the 'cockpit' steals my soul,

the gauges, so exquisite -

I lose all self-control.

The engine starts. It comes to life -

and roars to the extreme.

It sucks the gas from finite tank

in non-stop, steady stream.

My focus and attention,

are drawn by things of men -

which lose me in a cloud of fog,

which seek another sin.

In many ways, we 'sin' in style -

by boat or plane or car.

Though man can reach to moon and Mars,

can only get so far...

There's limits to the spending,

there's limits to the days,

there's limits to the envies of,

man's many sinful ways...

Yet grace, the engine of man's soul -

is ready, always willing.

And God wills that we come to Him -

but gas tank still needs filling.

Just one alone, the fuel is,

if focused we will be.

Though greater is the mustard seed -

faith fuels men, like me.

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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May 24, 2011

Plugged In? 5-24-11

Are we a mere computer,
or have we skin and souls?
Have we hearts that often break -
with sometime mixed-up goals?

This world has seen some changes,
and many, not so good.
We often think of only 'self'
instead of what we should.

Maybe fault is not our own -
as when we are abused.
Eden's Garden, this is not -
when innocent are 'used'.

Can people be deleted?
Do friends no longer stay?
Are people simply 'products' that
some use - then throw away?

We plug in our computers
and we are 'plugged in' too -
but sometimes we will sit alone -
when real friends are few.

Computers do not have a heart,
and neither have they pain -
but people hurt from inside-out
and often times complain.

Brand new software will not work
when 'human' minds compute.
When control-alt-delete won't work,
we simply don't reboot.

When computers go awry -
we wipe the hard-drive clean -
but people cannot soon forget,
and must on shoulders lean.

Water kills computers,
and they don't cry in tears -
but people have the right to weep
to God who always hears.

FOR GOD knows every truth there is,
and pain He will erase -
if we will only seek His truth
and troubles squarely face.

We either love this life we have
on pathways we have trod -
or we can get unplugged from earth,
and get 'plugged in' to God!

http:/www.ganderpoems.org/

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May 21, 2011

How Dare You! 5-21-11

How dare you tell me what to do -
you little Christian man!
You hide inside your little world -
I'll do just what I can.

How dare you tell me what to do -
you talk big - then you quit!
You claim to help the poor and meek,
but you're a hypocrite.

How dare you tell me what to do -
it's legal... gambling, booze.
So keep your morals off of me,
I'll do just what I choose.

How dare you tell me what to do!
Send me a little food!
I spent a bit on 'joints' and stuff.
I'm in depressive mood.

How dare you tell me what to do!
You know it's how life goes.
Don't leave me to the elements,
but buy me newer clothes.

How dare you tell me what to do -
in comforts of your home.
Basic shelter is a need -
yet, place to place, I roam.

How dare you tell me what to do!
Your morals, keep off me!
Just find a cure for my disease -
and happy I will be.

How dare you tell me what to do!
My rights? My needs and wants!
Health care costs are through the roof -
so pay all my insurance.

How dare you pray to your great God.
He made me down to lie,
He led me by still waters and,
He made me want to cry.

Just leave me be. Ignore me -
until some future date.
Just let me live the way I want -
until it is too late.

These may not be the words you said.
Don't be offended so...
"How dare you!" were the words I said,
so many years ago.

http:/www.ganderpoems.org/

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2 Corinthians 5:17 (NASB)
Therefore if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creature; the old things passed away; behold, new things have come.

Psalm 23 (NASB)

1 The LORD is my shepherd,
I shall not want.
2 He makes me lie down in green pastures;
He leads me beside quiet waters.
3 He restores my soul;
He guides me in the paths of righteousness
For His name's sake.
4 Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,
I fear no evil, for You are with me;
Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me.
5 You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies;
You have anointed my head with oil;
My cup overflows.
6 Surely goodness and lovingkindness will follow me all the days of my life,
And I will dwell in the house of the LORD forever.

May 19, 2011

Apron Strings 5-19-11

When I was young,

I often clung,

to many little things.

I'd reach up high,

again retie,

my mama's apron strings.

I sometimes did,

what mom forbid,

although she'd make it clear.

Thoughts still linger.

I remember,

through each fleeting year.

Acquainted still,

her stories thrill,

with many left untold.

I can't go back,

though mem'ries track,

to years I'd rather hold.

I'm lost in thought,

it can't be caught,

despite my futile search -

mama singing,

mama bringing,

this small boy to church.

Though I was touched,

and changed so much,

through Christ, the perfect One -

I cannot stay,

time slips away,

from all that she had done.

I try to grasp,

and hands I clasp,

around those many things -

but mem-ry strands,

slip through my hands -

just like those apron strings.

I miss her so.

Emotions show.

There's moistness in my eyes.

I can't withhold,

though I am old,

my oft guilt-ridden cries.

But it's not bad,

for I am glad,

whenever I think of -

my mama's cares,

my mama's prayers,

and her most precious love.

http://www.ganderpoems.org

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May 10, 2011

Coconuts 5-10-11

God made every coconut -

and each day many fall.

There's many 'round about us but,

they never heard His call,

and...

God is ignored.

Walking through a park one day, I

willed not to succumb...

to be a coconut that lacked a speck,

of any Godly wisdom,

but...

God was ignored.

I bent down and picked one up -

much heavier than thought,

(just like the burdens on our backs,

when we are overwrought)

and...

God was ignored.

Still holding that old coconut -

my conscious thoughts had blurred.

As I walked out upon a pier,

I wished God could be heard,

but...

God was ignored.

I wondered just how big of splash

that coconut could make -

so then in fervor, threw that nut -

a great splash in the lake,

and...

God was ignored.

My feet got wet, I shook my head -

and quickly walked away.

It seems as though the world wins.

What more can my God say?

and...

God was ignored.

Curiously, I looked back.

As if it had been gloating,

there bobbing on the little waves,

the coconut was floating.

and...

God was ignored.

Throughout this world, the zombies walk -

in sinful, futile ruts -

and burdens weigh on shoulders as

their hard old coconuts,

and...

God is ignored.

God alone redeems the nut,

and let me tell you what -

that I was just like all the rest -

a stubborn coconut...

but no longer...
was God ignored.

http://www.ganderpoems.org

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May 7, 2011

If Days Could Talk 5-7-11

If days could talk,

what would they say?

What wisdom could we seek?

Listen to each one of them - Day by Day...

Monday says, "Get out of bed!"

as it gives you a jerk.

"Wipe that 'sleep' out of your eyes -

I'm putting you to work!"

Tuesday says, "All is okay.

You've been through this before.

If you could handle yesterday -

then you can handle more."

Wednesday says, "You're halfway done.

You've been through this day too.

Remember all the work you've done,

Reward is up to you.

Thursday says, "Let's plan to have -

an evening of some fun!

Go out and party Friday night.

Have fun with everyone!"

Friday says, "I've got you now -

wrapped around my finger.

Exciting times are just ahead -

so let temptations linger..."

Saturday? Well, here's the truth.

You slept through half the day.

"You did not heed the warning,"

you finally heard it say.

Mistakes were made. You know it.

The fault? Not always yours.

But now, some things will never change.

There are not always cures.

The world really does not care,

if anyone is hurt -

So live each day like Sunday so

May 2, 2011

My Little Boat 5-2-11

Is 'faith' an easy word to say? Climb in my little boat.
It's not too much to look at but, was built so it could float.

Now hold on tight! We're sailing, across this mighty sea!
And don't look back like Lot's wife did - it's just You, God and me.

We know the storm clouds darken now. We know the sea is rough.
We see the storms approaching us. We know it will be tough.

The raging tempests circle in this blinding, windy squall -
the typhoon winds are deafening. They're blowing horizontal.

The wind picks up around us and life's boat has great surprises -
despite our frantic bailing here, the water level rises...

More breaking waves crash over us. Our future starts to dim.
Our work is less than futile but, our hope resides in Him.

Freezing rain like 'pelting bullets' stab us like a knife.
Grasping tight to what we can - we hold on fast to life.

Pulled muscles, cuts and aching joints now steal away attention.
We lose, while tossing sick and stunned, sense of all direction.

We cower ever lower then. Some refuge? There is none.
Our prayers drown in the breaking waves. Our words lost, every one.

Now most give in about this time. High hopes, the world sees.
Their dreams are carried off in winds and souls to sinful seas.

In life, we've often sacrificed - but our lives, never gave.
We just get blown around a bit - and tossed from wave to wave.

So all alone, we shiver here - and drenched so thorough, wet.
We see, though stunned to speechless a familiar silhouette.

Now saving us from certain death, with grace for all who sinned -
and walking on the water, Jesus calms the sea and wind.

Life's futile ocean's much too wide for tiny boat and I -
but God gives grace to everyone whose faith is not a lie.

Is 'faith' an easy word to say? Climb in my little boat.
It's not too much to look at but, with faith, still stays afloat...

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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Psalm 107 (KJV)

23 Those who go down to the sea in ships,

Who do business on great waters;

24 They have seen the works of the LORD,

And His wonders in the deep.

25 For He spoke and raised up a stormy wind,

Which lifted up the waves of the sea.

26 They rose up to the heavens, they went down to the depths;

Their soul melted away in their misery.

27 They reeled and staggered like a drunken man,

And were at their wits' end.

28 Then they cried to the LORD in their trouble,

And He brought them out of their distresses.

29 He caused the storm to be still,

So that the waves of the sea were hushed.

30 Then they were glad because they were quiet,

So He guided them to their desired haven.

31 Let them give thanks to the LORD for His lovingkindness,

And for His wonders to the sons of men!

April 20, 2011

Noise, Noise, Noise! 4-20-11

More autos, planes, computer games and toys, toys, toys...
...is this what life is all about - the noise, noise, noise?

If man said He could cut the noise in half, half, half -
I'd not believe. I'm sorry, but I'd laugh, laugh, laugh!

Transparent man - I laugh so hard, I cry, cry, cry...
all it seems we want to do is buy, buy, buy.

God creates, commands and we will see, see, see -
that man has pride - he's foolish as can be, be, be.

Don't let a quiet corner be too rare, rare, rare -
get on your knees and whisper up a prayer, prayer, prayer.

And use your ears - you really have a choice, choice, choice -
to spend some time and listen for His still, small, voice. (1 Kings 19:12)

©2011 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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1 Kings 19:11,12 (KJV)

11 And he said, Go forth,

and stand upon the mount before the LORD.
And, behold, the LORD passed by,

and a great and strong wind rent the mountains,

and brake in pieces the rocks before the LORD;
but the LORD was not in the wind: and after the wind an earthquake;
but the LORD was not in the earthquake: 12 And after the earthquake a fire;
but the LORD was not in the fire: and after the fire a still small voice.

June 26, 2011

June 18, 2011

June 11, 2011

June 8, 2011

June 4, 2011

June 3, 2011

May 31, 2011

May 29, 2011

May 28, 2011

May 27, 2011

May 25, 2011

May 24, 2011

May 21, 2011

May 19, 2011

May 10, 2011

May 7, 2011

May 2, 2011

April 20, 2011

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