"I want to thank all those from around the world who come and read the poetry that God inspires me with. This site shall always be totally free for everyone with no tracking, pop-ups or other distractions." ~louis gander

August 5, 2012

Understand? 8-5-12


Just seek ye- and ye shall find!
Each word here is important -
So stay on top your toes! 
Unless you're wide awake, you'll lose -
So let's see how this goes.
Let's just play a little game
Of, let's see.... "Hide and Seek".
Very soon you'll see it clear,
Emerging with a peek.
So if ye seek God's kingdom,
You'll find His loving hand.
(Only read first letters in each line.  You'll
Understand).

©2012 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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Matthew 6 (KJV)
33 But seek ye first the kingdom of God, and his righteousness;
and all these things shall be added unto you.

August 3, 2012

From Where I Sit 8-3-12


Up on the high majestic hill,
stands one great mighty oak,
that seems to mimic something else -
a world of prideful folk.
Some think that sin is not so bad,
they think it's overblown -
but I can feel that screaming wind
from Satan's megaphone.

Oh, we all know man's clanging wars -
his taxed and tortured slaves -
his used, abused or beaten spouse -
the sinful life he paves -
that plows up God's great symphony
with Adam's clumsy ox -
and pummels us with angry words
or painful, sinful rocks.

But God's created orchestra -
all people, black and white -
all babies born (or soon to be)
and elders have a right -
a right to live on God's great earth
in peace and harmony.
But pride seeks greater powers and
rejects humility.

From where I sit, I always see
His beauty deep within,
His loving, graceful handiwork -
though plundered so, with sin.
God's handiwork from birds to fish
and mammals great and small -
still bless me with their beauty here.
I see His work in all.

And when I think my Loving God,
has nothing more to give -
He pours out love in greater grace,
so ready to forgive -
where even I, through heavy heart,
so tearfully repent -
and seek that perfect sacrifice,
who God already sent.

A rhythm rolls with springtime breeze
across this valley pass -
right over meadow here below
and through His humble grass.
In unison, harmonic notes
from orchestra below -
still wave to those on mighty hill,
to folks who need to know...

©2012 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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July 24, 2012

My Precious Time 7-24-12

(from a woman's perspective )

So handsome is my smiling man.
I find him quite a guy.
The months and years begin to roll
as precious time slips by...

I try to build that perfect life.
No matter how I try,
I learn this is no perfect world
as precious time slips by...

So beautiful, the Heavens are,
that share the starry sky.
I search for many answers there
as precious time slips by...

But winds contour the heated sands.
My words grow faint and dry.
The sand runs through my fingers too
as precious time slips by...

And frigid is the northwest front.
My tears freeze when I cry.
It finds me blind and unprepared
as precious time slips by...

So wonderful, that smiling man -
but years, we could not buy.
Though handsome as the day we met,
our precious time slipped by...

And now my loved one passed away.
Through tears I say, "Good bye"
but cling to pride and humble not,
as precious time slips by...

Yet patiently, my Lord still knocks.
His love, the reason why.
Will I ignore or answer Him?
My precious time slips by...

©2012 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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July 23, 2012

Just Another Angel 7-23-12


(based on a true story this morning, Monday, July 23, 2012.  The pastor is 91)

His wife and son were in the store.
He shuffled past me twice.
My eyes were red.  I hid my face.
I wanted no advice.

He must have sensed my emptiness
as I was feeling low -
because he sat down next to me.
I had nowhere to go.

We both were thinking our own thoughts
and neither said a word -
until his son walked up to us
and this is what I heard...

"My dad was once a pastor -
and had been several years.
He helped so many countless souls
and quenched their many fears."

Just then his wife came up to him
and said, "I'm ready now."
It had an impact over me.
Right then, I knew not how.

The pastor said some simple words
as he stood up to leave.
He simply said, "God loves you and
He wants you to believe."

He turned, began to walk away,
so I said, "Thank you much."
At that, he smiled and said goodbye.
I felt a loving touch.

A touch that cannot be described
in just a word or two -
but cures the lowest, broken heart
when it hears, "God loves you."

Was this a pure coincidence?
Were these words meant to be,
from just another angel sent,
from God, to earth - for me?

©2012 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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July 13, 2012

When We Don't Talk 7-13-12


I know that you get busy with the things that have to be,
but oh, if you could put yourselves in my shoes so you'd see...
a world imploding inward and- that leaves me high and dry,
a world that's ever-changing and- still makes me hurt and cry.

Again, another tune is heard. Another text arrives.
You're tuning out the real world, ignoring real lives.
Oblivious to what's around, engrossed inside your games,
you wouldn't really know it if your house was up in flames.

Bad habits, you're addicted to- on games of every kind,
on tunes and 'apps' that master you- control and seize your mind.
You're focused on your chat or text- and yes, that's really why
you cannot hear the words I speak or look me in the eye.

There's many little gadgets in, your world of make-believe.
They hold your full attention in, that world so hard to leave.
But one day you will not escape. Temptation's underneath,
where it conceives great weeping and- the gnashing too, of teeth.

I do not need those gadgets there, but oh, I love to hear
your "please's" and your "thank you's" as- you pray from year to year.
My pain was most unbearable when I was crucified,
so don't forget to talk to Me and set your world aside.

---

Yes, pain is quite unbearable, when children do not call.
They think our conversations are, most trivial and small.
This poem is about a world that will grow gravely grim -
and now we know, how Jesus feels- when we don't talk to Him...

©2012 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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1 Thessalonians 5: 12-22 (NASB)

12 But we request of you, brethren, that you appreciate those who diligently labor among you,
and have charge over you in the Lord and give you instruction,

13 and that you esteem them very highly in love because of their work.
Live in peace with one another.
14 We urge you, brethren, admonish the unruly, encourage the fainthearted,
help the weak, be patient with everyone.
15 See that no one repays another with evil for evil,

but always seek after that which is good for one another and for all people.
16 Rejoice always;
17 pray without ceasing;
18 in everything give thanks; for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.
19 Do not quench the Spirit; 20 do not despise prophetic utterances.
21 But examine everything carefully; hold fast to that which is good;
22 abstain from every form of evil.

July 9, 2012

Chasing Dreams 7-9-12


I ran through life - got thrown off-guard -
and stumbled over dreams so hard.
With future bright and never dim -
if only I had followed Him.

Yet Christ is found among the crowds
and penetrates my darkest clouds.
Though marred in sin as black as coal,
He lifted me, my wicked soul.

His endless love flows as the breeze,
He holds secure with cradled ease.
He rocks us close on clouds aloft,
with loving grace in arms so soft.

Yet we still choose to trip and fall,
oh, how we think we know it all -
and then complain when we get hurt.
But Christ can lift us from the dirt...

Do I still choose to chase my dreams?
So busy are these times, it seems.
Did I repent? I knew I ought -
but time I had - or so I thought...

©2012 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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Luke 13 (NASB)

1 Now on the same occasion there were some present who reported to Him about the Galileans whose blood Pilate had mixed with their sacrifices. 2 And Jesus said to them, “ Do you suppose that these Galileans were greater sinners than all other Galileans because they suffered this fate? 3 I tell you, no, but unless you repent, you will all likewise perish. 4 Or do you suppose that those eighteen on whom the tower in Siloam fell and killed them were worse culprits than all the men who live in Jerusalem? 5 I tell you, no, but unless you repent, you will all likewise perish.”

6 And He began telling this parable: “A man had a fig tree which had been planted in his vineyard; and he came looking for fruit on it and did not find any. 7 And he said to the vineyard-keeper, ‘Behold, for three years I have come looking for fruit on this fig tree without finding any. Cut it down! Why does it even use up the ground?’ 8 And he answered and said to him, ‘Let it alone, sir, for this year too, until I dig around it and put in fertilizer; 9 and if it bears fruit next year, fine; but if not, cut it down.’”

July 2, 2012

My Pastor 7-2-12


My pastor, I will not forget,
and wasn't my first choice,
to lead my favorite gospel hymns
with his low, raspy voice.

He couldn't seem to keep a beat
or hit a single note.
He once admitted to us all,
he sounded like a goat!

At times, the sermon, he'd forget.
Sometimes he'd drop his cane.
Most thought he was a special man -
but some, a bit insane.

Though he was sometimes questioned by
his well-intentioned peers,
a wisdom came to flourish from
vast Bible-reading years.

He often had a part-time job,
yet seemed to be around,
to answer all my crazy calls
with questions more profound.

Although he eased my fears and pain,
he had fears of his own.
Because we never heard complaints,
his ills were rarely known.

He sometimes lost his glasses and
the few announcements too.
His pocket watch would sometimes stop.
He fell a time or two.

His clumsiness was obvious,
He spilled his water cup.
Though Satan tried distracting him,
he never did give up.

So preach, he did, each Sunday morn,
through babies cries or cough.
He'd speak awhile and then some more,
'till grandpa dozed right off.

His speech would race, emotions great -
he'd tell us of God's Son,
who had to die to save the lost -
for me and everyone.

Once grandpa 'sawed his logs' quite loud.
Who knew what grandpa dreamed?
Yet pastor never missed a beat.
So futile preaching seemed.

Sometimes I'd reminisce when he
would knock on grandpa's door -
to visit him when he was sick,
then here, dismiss his snore.

But higher still, than grandpa's snore -
his words echoed above.
He'd pound down on my hardened heart
the softness of God's love.

I'll not forget his alter calls,
his passioned plea, to come -
to lay my every burden down -
so Christian, I'd become.

And one thing more I'll not forget,
in sermons through the weeks -
that he loved every one of us -
the proof ran down his cheeks.

My pastor, I will not forget.
He wasn't my first choice.
Delighted, though, I'd be again
to hear that raspy voice.

***

We love you pastor. You're sincere.
Oh, how we all recall,
the many ways we challenged you.
You rose above it all.
There's so much more you did for us.
Compassion you could share.
You've 'walked the talk' so faithfully,
so this begins our prayer...

"Dear Jesus, hear us. Give this man
a very special place.
You'll know him when you see him there -
for he reflects Your grace.
Today, we'll reminisce and miss,
past times that slipped away.
We thank you for our pastor and,
his very special way..."

©2012 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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June 28, 2012

Hopelessly Helpless? 6-28-12


I woke up from sleeping and found myself eating
a piece of old barley bread.
While feeding on breakfast, I thought it most unjust
that yours was a warm one instead.

Though willow branch bends, it cannot make amends
to a place that I'm sitting between.
A rock and a hard place that's hopeless to face -
and torment, the greatest I've seen.

My great sacrifice just wouldn't suffice.
These shoes that I wear aren't by choice.
"We can't refinance" was the bank's 'song and dance'
but who would hear my little voice?

Despite life-long effort, they're selling me short,
my business at such a great cost.
The bank never spared because they hadn't cared,
hence millions of dollars were lost.

So don't store up treasures for everyday pleasures,
in things of this earth that will rust.
The great love of money has never been funny,
for only in God should we trust.

It's so disconcerting my children are hurting,
yet hopelessly helpless I am.
Despite expectations to pay obligations,
I now can't help any of them.

I sit in the shade of these problems banks made.
This willow tree weeps with me too.
The moral of story is not really gory
if we've learned a lesson or two.

Those decades of years bring me sad lonely tears
for they took everything that I had.
But what greater loss - than was Christ's on the cross?
I maybe don't have it so bad.

©2012 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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June 21, 2012

Evergreen Hope 6-21-12


Spectacular wonder, the view way out yonder,
from high on this mountain slope.
God's great vast creation brings glad adoration
to Jesus who offers us hope.

From just one small seed, a potential indeed,
I crushed, by mistake, underfoot -
so whispered a prayer and stepped over where
another small sapling took root.

And on that rock shelf I thought to myself,
"Oh, how can that seedling be grown,
up here where it toils in dry rocky soils,
in midst of more turmoil not known?"

The seasons and years, the blizzards and fears,
rose doubts that had made me take pause,
It sure hadn't thrived but had it survived -
Had it overcome nature's laws?

Now several years later I found something greater
when I returned back to that tree.
I had to admire, it soared so much higher,
and grew so much taller than me.

I once saw it crushed, but now I am hushed,
and humbled at what God had done.
One tiny example of something we trample
brings life from the tomb of His Son!

A long time ago under hail and snow,
despite its long discord and strife,
its tap root had locked way down deep in the rock
that faithfully brought it to life!

Oh, why can't I be like that evergreen tree,
that grew up so high in the sky?
The greenest of green that I've ever seen,
oh tell me Lord, why cannot I?

Spectacular wonder, the view way out yonder,
from high on this mountain slope.
God's vast great creation brings glad adoration
to Jesus who offers me hope.

©2012 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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June 12, 2012

The Sparrow 6-12-12


A hawk soared high
with hungry eye
for hour after hour.
At times it'd stop
above rooftop,
above the belfry tower.

There it would perch
above this church,
atop the highest tree.
It's Satan's way,
to seek the prey -
for something greedily.

That hawk would plunge,
swoop down and lunge
to seize a tasty meal.
I thought it odd,
so prayed, "Dear God,"
and knew the threat was real.

A sparrow sensed
the danger hence,
and needed quick, to fly.
Through broken glass
I saw, alas,
that sparrow fly right by.

Now safe inside,
it sought to hide
this room it flew across.
What was in store
was answered for,
below the unlit cross.

Though lights were broke,
the sun had spoke,
as stained glass glowed throughout.
And broken pane
caused streaks from rain,
as church was emptied out.

When sparrow see,
should follow, we,
and walk the straight and narrow -
to take refuge
from subterfuge,
with God's most precious sparrow?

If we'll return
to church and learn;
the God that grace is of;
then from all sin
there's safety in,
the shelter of His love.

I learned that day,
that come what may,
there's comfort under wing.
I know because
that sparrow does!
It sure can chirp and sing!

And so could we
if we were free
of peril from the perch.
So lets equip
in fellowship,
the filling of our church.

©2012 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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Matthew 10:31 (NASB)
So do not fear; you are more valuable than many sparrows.

June 8, 2012

Beneath His Willow Tree 6-8-12


So tell me, does God understand,
and can He really see,
a weary widow on this bench
beneath His willow tree?

There were parents busy with,
their children running free,
but no one noticed I sat here
beneath His willow tree.

Of all the people in the park,
I thought of only me.
Could no one know my broken heart
beneath His willow tree?

My husband's recent passing adds
one more bad memory,
to all my pile of heartaches here
beneath His willow tree.

"Please take away my loneliness."
I prayed, "May sorrow flee" -
but felt my tear start rolling down,
beneath His willow tree.

I prayed for one small miracle,
just one drop from His sea -
then found a peace not felt before,
beneath His willow tree.

As Jesus kissed my tear away,
I noticed lovingly,
another weary woman rest,
beneath His willow tree.

And then she shared her loneliness.
A new friend she would be.
We talked and laughed and opened up
beneath His willow tree.

The sun came out and brightened us,
as we sipped green iced tea -
and reminisced together here
beneath His willow tree.

So tell me, does God understand,
and can He really see,
a weary widow on this bench
beneath His willow tree?

©2012 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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John 13:34 (NASB)
A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another,
even as I have loved you, that you also love one another.

June 6, 2012

Dirty Socks 6-6-12


I sweep my floor and mop it.
Before my mind's at ease,
I scrub as hard as I can scrub
down on my hands and knees.
Now don't we want a spotless house
to honor any guest?
Until my floor is sparkling clean
I cannot be at rest.

Now life is like my tile floor
that looks as though it's clean.
But take a look at my white socks
and you'll know what I mean.
We try to hide our dirty socks
whenever someone comes,
but God sees every dirty heart
and knows of all the crumbs.

Yet Jesus knocks at our heart's door.
Accept God's only Son,
who died so sacrificially
for each confessing one.
Yes, Jesus gives eternal life,
a gift that's always free-
if we give Him our dirty socks
and follow faithfully.

©2012 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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Revelation 3:20 (NASB)
Behold, I stand at the door and knock;
if anyone hears My voice and opens the door,
I will come in to him and will dine with him,
and he with Me.

June 1, 2012

This Little Country Church 6-1-12


So picturesque, the meadow -
though breezes cut with knife,
but water whispers in the brook
as valley springs to life.
So beautiful, the hillside view
of pines, red oak and birch -
but nothing is so lovely as
this little country church.

It stands so straight and solid,
despite these many years,
unwavered by the storms of life,
and many heartfelt tears.
The mem'ries of a time long past
hold to a grim disguise,
as visions of my long lost friends
bring sorrow to my eyes.

Though not a soul in eye-sight,
I am accompanied -
as Jesus walks before me
and throws salvation's seed.
The world, indeed, still wants to change -
a sinful earthly curse
and little church, long empty now,
not better, is for worse.

Yet birds still lift my spirits.
"Have faith!" they seem to say,
as chills from early springtime winds
now dry some tears away.
So somberly, through weathered door
I step in reverently.
A greater flood of mem'ries more
now pounce all over me.

They shake my senses silly
and pelt with bruising flack.
My eyes now rest on walnut pews
as mem'ries pull me back.
Hey Clem, hello!  Yes, Doris too -
and all my other friends...
I stand here frozen all the while
until remembrance ends.

With congregation absent,
(deceptions made them flee),
the root of evil holds them off -
not prayer, nor faith, nor me.
My love for mankind multiplies
as springtime wakes the seed,
but this old world will never find
the Savior who they need.

Our discipline was honored.
Respect was dignified.
Oh, how will children of today
see Jesus glorified?
Setting on a folding chair,
still sets a dusty Book
and tears well up again as I
take yet a closer look.

Stepping out, the chilly winds
condemn my presence here,
but I will surely come again
My heart still holds no fear.
So beautiful, the hillside is
of pines, red oak and birch -
but nothing is so lovely as
this little country church.

©2012 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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May 30, 2012

The Ceiling Fan 5-30-12


I felt just like a ceiling fan -
just spinning 'round and 'round,
running, circling, whirling,
not making any sound.

Endlessly, I spun and spun.
I knew life wasn't fair -
just going through the motions,
not getting anywhere!

I, knowing I, more worthy was,
should I'd been called upon,
but stuck here on the ceiling, I
was merely hanging on...

The weeks and months had turned to years
but who was I to kid?
I'd done the same thing every day
and that was all I did.

Now one day when my chain was pulled
I simply was too tired.
I don't know what came over me,
I thought I was still wired.

My owner came and took me down.
I finally got a ride!
I saw new sights!  My dreams came true!
My eyes grew very wide!

I wanted so, to travel -
but this was not the way!
Oh, I was heading to the dump!
I want another day!

I promised I would spin around.
I promised I would try!
I said, "Do not give up on me,
for I'm too young to die!"

But I was not so lucky.
All my hopes were dashed.
He threw me in a dumpster with,
the hot and putrid trash.

I sat there quite awhile and
I prayed so hard and long.
I gave up on a miracle -
until 'He' came along.

He carried me back to his house
and then He took me in.
He held me very gentle, then
He fixed up all my sin.

Oh yes, I'm still a ceiling fan,
and spinning endlessly -
and though I know life isn't fair,
I'll ever happy, be!

©2012 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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Romans 6:4 (NASB)
 Therefore we have been buried with Him through baptism into death,
so that as Christ was raised from the dead through the glory of the Father,
so we too might walk in newness of life.

May 28, 2012

E and M 5-28-12


Here,
take the letters 'E' and 'M'
and you will plainly see -
that if you switch the letters 'round,
you'll get a word called 'ME'.
Meaningless, the 'E' and 'M'
unless they're switched around.
They have a different meaning and
of course, a different sound.

Now though the word 'ME' supersedes
the letters that you see.
the meaning of this simple word
is greater far than 'ME'.
Yes, 'ME' is but a simple word,
for if I have no breath -
there won't be any life because
without life there is death.

So, 'life' is even greater than
a pile of all our words -
for living in His image is,
as farthing for two birds.
Two birds that are not purchased
will fall to desert sod,
but grace is breath for you and 'ME'
and it is all of God.

So,
if 'ME' is more than letters,
and 'life' is more than 'ME',
and God is more than life itself,
then it's all plain to see.
If meaningful, this profound truth
then what are we to do?
What does life eternal mean
and who is God to you?

©2012 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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Matthew 10:29 (KJV)
"Are not two sparrows sold for a farthing?
and one of them shall not fall on the ground without your Father."

May 23, 2012

My Little Box 5-23-12


I cannot prove the miracles
behind salvation's locks,
but if I could, here's what you'd see
inside my little box...

---

If I pulled out, a piece of cross
with blood stains smeared about,
if I had all the photos here,
so you would have no doubt,
if I had froze the moment that
they nailed Him to the cross,
so you could see that gruesome pain
as shadows passed across,

if I had casts from footprints there,
the cross and where it stood,
if I had pulled those massive nails
from deep within the wood,
if I had here the crown of thorns
they pressed down on His head,
so you could know the torment and
the flowing crimson red,

if I had froze that sunset
and showed their facial fear,
if I could show you nail prints
and Jesus' final tear,
if I had filmed the lightning
and veil that ripped in two -
that whole occurrence thoroughly -
to play it back for you,

if I could fill emotions with
the blackness of the tomb,
if I had breathed the fragrance in,
exhaled the old perfume,
if I could pull the linens out
and hold them in my hand,
or show a relic of the stone
so you would understand,

if I took out, in brilliant hue,
a painting so profound,
if I could sing in perfect pitch
with great harmonic sound,
if I had grasped an ocean breeze
beyond the longest docks,
so you could smell its freshness here
inside my little box,

if I held high His halo
and proved His torture wrong,
if I had seized that moment and
then wrote the perfect song,
if I had found the precise words
that Jesus has for you,
then I could prove the love of God
and testify it true.

No...  God requires something else -
a loving, faithful heart -
so grab your eyes and pluck them out,
and rip your box apart!
He sets our anxious mind at ease,
and offers all of us -
a personal relationship,
of peace and faithfulness.

---

If we can see, then we believe -
yet Jesus wills that we,
would never follow with our eyes,
but rather faithfully.

©2012 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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May 20, 2012

Grace Awaits 5-20-12


A little child is hungry,
but mother's flying high -
illegal drugs and alcohol
as many beers go by.

A little child is beaten,
but no one hears his cry.
the beatings simply never quit
as many tears go by.

A little child is confused
by yet another guy,
with screaming, fights and arguments
as many fears go by.

A little child becomes a teen,
and sees his best friend die -
the only life the child knows
as many peers go by.

A little child grows in greed.
The world knows not why,
but he becomes quite popular
as many cheers go by.

Another child goes to church
in Sunday suit and tie.
Through love, correction, learns respect
as many jeers go by.

But God sees faith and righteousness
while others steal and lie -
yet grace awaits with patience as
the many years go by...

©2012 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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May 12, 2012

Dear Friends 5-12-12


Dear Friends,

When Jesus stepped into my dream
last night while I was sleeping,
I saw the radiance in His face -
however, He was weeping.

I wondered what had happened,
I wondered what occurred,
but when I asked Him why He was,
He never said a word.

I asked if He was hurting.
With that, He nodded 'yes'.
I asked Him many questions, but
He wanted me to guess.

So after many guesses,
with answers short and long -
I searched more answers far and near,
but all of them were wrong.

Now this, I had to figure out,
and learn it on my own.
I finally found the reason -
and it, I should have known.

It hit me like a ton of bricks -
my sins, the reason why.
The tears He cried had made me sick.
Another left His eye.

So then, I started crying -
but He reached out His hands.
His fingers touched my now wet cheeks,
He smiled so widely and -

He placed His thumbs along my nose,
and then said, "Do not fear."
And with His thumbs beneath my eyes,
He wiped away each tear.

Now that, dear friends, is endless love,
forgiveness, comfort, grace -
and there's no work that He requires.
I won't forget His face.

We must have faith in God alone.
There's no 'work' we can do.
But why must Jesus hurt so much?
...Well, that's so we don't have to.

©2012 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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May 9, 2012

Erasure Dust 5-9-12


Erasure dust was scattered 'round
my make-shift desk where I was found,
inside my garden court serene,
behind a stand of evergreen.

I should have guessed. I should have known,
mistakes I made were all my own.
I wrote too fast and wrote too long
when pencil slid on paper wrong.

Could all God's people understand?
I tried to move my shaking hand.
To reach lost souls is very tough,
my words seem never good enough.

Yes, back and forth erasure moves,
erasing sins that pencil proved,
that sin's mistakes can ruin lives.
They make a mess as death connives.

And next to rose which set on desk,
erasure dust was so grotesque.
Confused, I was, and ill at ease,
at makeshift desk behind the trees.

The perfect roses, red and pink,
had really made me stop to think.
But if I quit, then life grows still -
so write, I do, and always will.

Though God forgives, the pain remains.
Distracting wrongs bring mental strains.
They bring us pain, great guilt and strife,
but God brings breath, forgiveness, life.

Oh, our mistakes will always be,
yet grace through faith will set us free -
when God brings forth a stiff wind gust
and blows away erasure dust.

©2012 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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Ephesians 2:8
For by grace you have been saved through faith;
and that not of yourselves, it is the gift of God;

May 1, 2012

A Younger Poet 5-1-12


I dab some ink on end of quill,
and draft a poem up until,
my paper stack is all used up
and empty is my coffee cup.
My hand that shakes all on its own,
is held in place by fragile bone
so every verb and every noun
is marred when they are written down.

It seems to me to be so cruel,
for such a weak and senile fool,
with varicose and bulging veins
with all my many aches and pains,
to write more words until they're right
this poetry - despite my sight,
that grows so weak so often now.
I wonder if I still know how...

Yet may my writing not disguise
that God is good and God is wise -
for God has blessed and has in store
His endless grace and all the more.
We often think we know it all
and brag before our humble fall -
yet may we learn this simple truth:
that ink can change a prideful youth.

So I will write 'til truth is taught
and everlasting grace is sought.
Before I die, for what it's worth,
I'll pray for one more poets birth -
to carry on, to take my place,
to teach more youth of every race.
So dab I ink, on end of quill,
until a younger poet will...

©2012 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

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