"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

September 21, 2011

Heather 9-21-11


The wedding went so perfect,
despite the plans and rush.
Her wedding gown, exquisite,
so elegant and plush.

Heather was so beautiful -
her hair, so perfect set.
And he, the perfect gentleman.
My thoughts... of when they met.

Each other, they respected.
They were the perfect pair.
And none could break these two apart -
each others lives they'd share.

They love each other deeply.
Their prayers ascend above -
Their children? Little angels!
And they have all my love.

...

But then my dream had shattered
as I lay in my bed.
I live not in a fairy tale -
but the real world instead.

My Heather had no children -
and that, I know because -
she wasn't ever married.
Her husband never was.

No, Heather had no wedding -
She never had a choice.
My Heather was aborted.
I never heard her voice.

So please allow my wisdom
for just a moment more -
I live with my decision -
a choice I so deplore.

This memory that I live with,
still pains me yet today.
A life that God created,
I chose to take away.

(this was not written in judgment of others but rather
written for the unborn babies who can still be saved)

 ©2011 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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September 15, 2011

Too Many Flowers? 9-15-11


As God creates more flowers,
reflecting Heaven's love,
mere words cannot explain it all -
the beauty I speak of...

In fields of perfect flowers,
perfume and nose, we meet. 
I find myself among them as
they all surround my feet.

My thoughts were drawn among them.
My eyes saw every kind.
Now vivid colors capture me
like photos in my mind.

I spy a single flower.
I take a closer peek.
I find that every flower here
is special and unique.

I turn around to walk away.
I'm torn at what I see.
I've stepped on many flowers and
they will no longer be.

No longer to be cherished,
no longer to be smelled,
no longer to be photographed,
no longer to be held. 

Again I spy a single one -
a trampled one instead.
I know that it will always be -
forever lost and dead.

But I excused my clumsy feet
which trampled every kind -
Oh, how could I avoid them all -
with all that's on my mind?

Are there too many flowers?
Are those I trampled missed?
Are there too many babies?
Can we not coexist?

As God creates more flowers,
reflecting Heaven's love,
mere words cannot explain it all -
the beauty I speak of...

©2011 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

How can there be too many children? That is like saying there are too many flowers. ~Mother Teresa

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Genesis 1:1 (KJV)
"In the beginning, God created..." 


September 14, 2011

Pauper, King or I 9-14-11


From New York, Cairo or Beijing,
and whether pauper, me or king -
You can find us when we're lost -
and You don't charge - there is no cost.

I cannot look You in the eye -
for oh, so little faith, have I.
All jumbled with mistakes today,
I struggle for some words to say.

The paupers beg and get their bread -
their stomachs speak until their fed.
The servants jump when their king calls
as his word echoes through the halls.

Yes, paupers beg and Kings decree -
but who can hear my words, but me?
I'm so confused and so resigned -
Your answers, I can't seem to find.

I try to listen with both ears,
pray Your answers calm my fears.
I need Your wisdom, need Your aid,
I'm so distraught and so afraid.

I stumble through life's desert sand -
that's dry and hot. Please hold my hand.
My life is mixed up, a montage -
is this a dream, a mere mirage?

I wait for Your most tender tug.
I need a special, loving hug.
Though even with a sincere kiss,
I yet again would fall amiss.

Although I study, work and learn -
I really have no place to turn.
So stumble I, the narrow, straight,
until arriving at Your gate.

Your grace has triumphed over foe,
and why You listened, I don't know -
for You have seen the way I live,
so why, Lord, do you still forgive?

---

What 'lot' in life that we are giv'n,
matters not with grace from Heaven -
so whether pauper, king or I -
"For God so loved..." and that is why.

©2011 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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John 3:16 (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.

September 4, 2011

His Painting 9-5-11


Alone, the sun rises
over people unknown.
Although they ignore it,
its sunlight is thrown,
over the river and
through the faint fog,
like lone little flowers
on top a dead log,
growing so freely,
so gentle, so bright -
as God's great creation
is seen from His light.

Some hovering noises
seem somewhat bizarre,
trespassing nature
from places afar -
while God, the Great Artist
keeps painting His way -
another day passes
just like yesterday.
A bright colored sunset
surrounds a lone loon.
Reflected on water,
His bright crescent moon.

Now stars hold God's canvas
while brush strokes so grand,
paint wide vivid colors
with love's perfect hand.
And God - although we
cannot even imagine -
prepares us a place, in
His painting called 'Heaven'.
So things we see here
will seem dreary and gray,
compared to the next one
that'll blow us away!

©2011 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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John 14:2 (KJV)
In my Father's house are many mansions:
if it were not so, I would have told you.
I go to prepare a place for you.

August 18, 2011

Hands 8-18-11


Selfish hands and idle hands
are rotten to the core.
Loving hands and humble hands -
are needed even more.

Not famous hands or jealous hands -
but hands that do God's will.
Eager hands and fearless hands -
enduring hands as well.

Patient and obedient,
or busy as a bee -
clammy too or clumsy,
or unknown they may be.

Feeble hands or age old hands,
or hands that hug a lot -
rugged hands or wrinkled hands,
great many hands or not.

All hands on deck - please listen,
and every faithful hand -
as we go into this dark world
and visit every land.

Share the never failing hands -
His hands - as He prevails.
His hands, that carry us away,
are hands that held the nails.

©2011 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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Old Tattered Book 8-16-11


It always has been with me.
The Good Book, it is not.
My book is old and tattered,
and its been read a lot.

I'm very much familiar with
this ragged, weathered book -
I'll hide it not from you because,
I know you'll want to look.

My life is like an open book,
and here for all to see.
Interpret every facet there,
or read it differently.

Folks from different walks of life
have formulated ways -
to gather vast opinions and -
to scrutinize my days.

Now you may disagree with them,
or you might fall in line -
with those who do the gossiping,
and group me with the swine.

I see my 'dog-eared' corners,
the grime and stains throughout.
Forget, I would, some pages -
if I could tear them out -

because I'm very much ashamed
of sinful burdens there -
of sins that I cannot forget -
that Jesus had to bear.

And guilt, at times, still haunts me,
and though forgiveness cures,
I'm very glad you've read my book.
Now read a bit of yours.

©2011 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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Matthew 7:3 (NASB)
Why do you look at the speck that is in your brother’s eye,
 but do not notice the log that is in your own eye? 

August 14, 2011

Commonality 8-14-11


Everything in this whole world
has one great flaw in common.
Large, small, very light, or
heavier than a ton.

Some are solid, others not,
and some we hear a lot,
some are just a vision,
while others, cold or hot.

Coffee smells, alarm clocks,
computers, highway signs -
family, long vacations -
schedules, meetings, deadlines.

Tell me, what's in common here -
say, what could it be?
Cookie jars to fancy cars,
curved rainbows, scenery...

And there are many other things,
too numerous to list -
scary masks of Halloween,
to pretty morning mists.

Just ponder for a minute
the commonality -
and what effect these things have had
to others, you and me.

Just think for just a minute,
on all these things I list -
and all else you can think of -
and all else that I've missed...

So try, you just might find it -
if not, reread again -
for every thing is common here
for children, women, men.

Now if you have not found it yet,
the answer, if you care -
is that they steal attention and -
take time away from prayer...

©2011 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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August 8, 2011

Tender Tears 8-8-11


Be positive and confident,
and joyous all the while -
and you can be a great success
while wearing your great smile.

Success will bring you riches,
such fun, excitement too -
so do not let this world slip by -
revolve it around you.

Oh, there will be some hurting -
a child without his dad -
and though he may shed many tears
don't let him make you sad.

Just keep on smiling broadly,
and remember, others can -
show their deep compassion.
Don't interrupt your plan.

There's way too many people -
and all, you cannot do -
and after all - it's when you smile,
the world will smile with you.

Spread laughter, joy into this world -
put smiles on all the poor -
and if you still feel guilty,
donate a little more.

Ignore the child crying,
ignore her ragged clothes,
ignore the troubles, not your own
for it is how life goes.

Crack a joke on your success,
and brag on all you gave.
Jest and smile and live it up!
Die laughing to the grave...

And then, when you see Jesus,
and your world disappears -
will you get Him to laugh with you
behind His tender tears? 

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

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August 5, 2011

One Not Worthy 8-5-11


If I was Jesus, could I take -
the blame that wasn't my mistake?

If I was Jesus, could I hear -
the name 'Barabbas' in my ear?

If I was Jesus, could I see -
the multitudes surrounding me?

If I was Jesus, could I wear -
a crown of thorns set on my hair?

If I was Jesus, could I feel -
the rugged nails through hand and heel?

If I was Jesus, could I smell -
the stench of sweat and blood that fell?

If I was Jesus, could I taste -
when sour wine on lips was placed?

If I was Jesus, could I give -
could I be strong, could I forgive?

If I was Jesus, could I die -
for one not worthy, such as I?

©2011 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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August 3, 2011

The Fragile Fog 8-3-11



Dawn breaks clear and breeze begins- leans the many grasses -
rolling knolls, valleys green- moving, it amasses
moisture up from silent pond, a vapor freely born -
confusing fogs of dampness, there's- another one to warn
of world's prideful arrogance, of want and selfish greed -
another one oblivious to warnings he should heed.

Slow and patient hovering, brings truth so plain to see -
but blindness seizes naive hearts and there will seldom be -
changes to the inner soul that lingers ever past -
then fades away, the temperate fog, as time has fleeted fast.

God creates, then man destroys a life, so visible -
but Jesus comes to heal the sick, the body, spiritual.

God gave Jesus for our souls.  He patiently awaits -
while life is like the fragile fog which quickly dissipates.

Earth- or all eternity- two choices we must weigh -
before the fog has lifted and- life vanishes away. 

©2011 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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James 4:14 (NASB)
Yet you do not know what your life will be like tomorrow.
You are just a vapor that appears for a little while and then vanishes away.

July 28, 2011

Plant The Seed 7-28-11


Some smoking cigs,
and drinking beer -
or walking streets
in total fear.

Some loving fights,
or reading smut -
some overweight
in gambling rut.

Some driving drunk
and smoking crack -
small screaming kids,
good morals lack.

A land of grace,
in land of sin?
Please let me know
what world I'm in.

Now up-side-down
this world is not -
so say the folks,
who have a lot.

But God still knows
the evil heart -
each evil soul,
that falls apart.

And die, they will,
so 'drunk in rum'.
I wish it not,
but day will come.

And come it will,
when all time stops -
when wrath begins
and ruling drops.

Death eternal.
Life eternal.
God external,
or internal?

So hate the sin
but love the man.
Let's plant the seed.
You know we can!

©2011 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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July 26, 2011

Touched? 7-26-11


When all goes well, you do not call,
you do not whisper prayers at all.
but when you're sick or feeling bad,
I hear a prayer that makes Me sad.

You pray that I should comfort you,
and tell Me all that I should do -
but then when you are well again,
your prayers are empty, hollow, thin.

So where's your trust when you are well?
I need your faith so I can tell -
you're not a fake or hypocrite,
but sincere friend who can commit.

Commit to church, commit to Me,
commit to friends and family.
Until that day, you're torn apart,
torn in two, straight through your heart.

So pray when things are going grand
so I can tell right where you stand.
Not lukewarm, but hot or cold -
for lukewarm souls, I will not hold.

For I so love this world too -
the worst of men, including you.
I will save you from your sin -
but you must first, invite Me in.

So patiently, at your hearts door,
I stand and knock to offer more.
For from this world, you'll soon depart,
so let me touch your broken heart.

©2011 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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July 16, 2011

When Jesus Holds 7-16-11


One day, when Jesus holds me tight,
will I forget the past?
Will I forget my every sin,
from first to very last?

One day, when Jesus holds me tight,
will I cry quite awhile -
then be so red and blurry eyed,
I miss His loving smile?

One day, when Jesus holds me tight,
will I forget the pain?
Will I forget my memories that,
keep driving me insane?

One day, when Jesus holds me tight,
will all my sins replay?
Or will He hold me tighter and
wipe all my tears away?

One day, when Jesus holds me tight,
when I'll be loved the most -
will I remember painful past,
as Jesus holds me close?

©2011 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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July 11, 2011

Blessings 7-11-11


God showers me with blessings -
too many to be named.
And He has given me so much -
so much, I am ashamed.

Though I have lost possessions,
(some former wants and needs) -
I'm steered to where I wish not go,
as my Creator leads -
and made to walk in valleys deep,
so great, the length and breadth -
and made to go to distant lengths,
and sometimes near to death.

He showed me all that I had missed
to understand His scene -
and made me walk on water,
and through His pastures green.
But sight? None can imagine -
the view beyond the skies -
to see what can't be understood
with selfish, simple eyes!

His blessings once confused me,
and camouflaged my pride,
and I just couldn't see His love,
'till I set 'me' aside.
Yes, God has showered blessings,
too many to be named -
and He has given me so much -
so much, I am ashamed.

And yet, His greatest blessing,
so many years before -
was that He gave His only Son.
What blessing is worth more??

©2011 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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July 9, 2011

The Shiny Penny 7-9-11


Reflection caught my lazy eye,
there on the narrow street.
I spied the shiny penny's glint -
right underneath my feet.

Many will not pick one up,
as value is so small -
and they believe it worthless for,
most anything at all.

To pick it up, not worth it -
at least that's what they say.
but oh, my time was not a waste -
was not a waste that day.

Though, there embossed, was Lincoln's face -
the date stamped clearly new -
more engravings marked the back,
proved it a penny too.

But what can a sole penny buy?
Good luck, what can it bring?
What help buys it, the hungry?
What good, the shiny thing?

Its purpose can be measured,
the value, one small cent.
But there had to be more to it.
My patience had been spent.

I found it - just a penny,
so small and very thin.
I thought it, all but worthless,
but then I looked again...

First opening my fingers,
then cleaning off some dust -
I finally found great value with,
the words, "In God We Trust".

©2011 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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July 4, 2011

My Pencil War 7-4-11


It will erase the phrase it writes,
that's written on a page -
at other times it writes more words...
it's difficult to gauge.

There is a war that's going on,
that's not on land or sea.
A thousand times my pencil flips,
the two just can't agree.

The selfish lead, the soft eraser -
the two can't get along.
They both appear so far apart.
Each thinks the other wrong.

Their battles seem to linger on -
Confusion wills to grow.
This poem is of truth and love.
Conclusions, can we know?

Am I just like my pencil,
that I take off the shelf -
fumbling between my fingers,
at war within myself?

Am I just like my pencil,
in incoherent bind?
Does warring begin or finish,
within my mixed-up mind?

Seek I, the left, or to my right -
or back, or simply stop?
My mind runs in full circles as
the pencil fights nonstop.

The truth still lives - the answer, one,
to settle this whole score -
until then I, a traitor am,
inside my pencil war.

The truthful words, I'll never find,
or my complete reward -
unless I search the Holy Word
and listen to my Lord.

I compromise my writing,
and it is always blurred -
if I can't lay my pencil down
and understand God's Word.

©2011 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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My Erasure 7-4-11


Every day I make mistakes -
they often make me ill -
but my erasure's here atop, my
error driven pencil.
It fixes all my mixed-up thoughts,
and every misspelled word -
and makes more space for other thoughts,
before my words are heard.

My erasure though, lacks power,
to fix my evil side.
It cannot mend my sinful scars -
I know, because I tried.
I frantically attempted -
but then to my dismay,
I watched as my erasure wore
entirely away.

Sin stains our selfish motives,
then guilt comes as a flood,
but erasures cannot help us -
removing sin takes blood.
And Jesus does that best of all.
Erasing takes no skill.
No, we cannot erase our sin -
but Jesus can, and will.

©2011 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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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.

©2011 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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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.

©2011 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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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.

©2011 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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