Gander Story Poems

June 27, 2013

As Breezes Blow 6-27-13

As breezes blow us out in drove,
we utter, flutter through the grove.
But smile among God's treasure trove!
---
Lightning flashes plunder under
clouds as thunder comes asunder!
God's creation has me wonder...

The pounding showers seem to cower -
devouring this fragile flower.
God's creation, massive power!

And don't forget as sunsets hit -
more storm clouds threaten as of yet.
God's creation, sopping wet.

The darkness heightens, but thereafter
sunlight brightens morning after -
as God creates a child's laughter!

The bud, the rose, the bloom of it -
then growth again, should He permit.
God's creation - so exquisite!

And from it all, great waterfalls.
Still I crawl. My stature stalls -
as all of God's creation calls...

from two dead logs which laid across,
together nailed to form a cross.
Creation's gain brought Heaven's loss.

But garden rose of deep maroon
with monarch's flutter from cocoon -
sees virgin birth returning soon!

Oh, how all nature seems to shout,
"We tell you what it's all about!"
Creation lives - without a doubt!

Should I have known this all along?
Now tell me, "Where do I belong?"
Creation prays for Heaven's song!

And choreographed, they wave in wind -
two willows whisper standing twinned.
God's creation without end.

The nations' notions have accrued -
turned up-side-down, this world skewed.
Ever endeavor servitude.

Am I sincere and persevere
or rather simple breezes fear -
through year and year and year and year?

While every nation brings taxation -
God through faith, brings grace, salvation!
Praise Him! Sanctification!!
---
As breezes blow us out in drove,
we utter, flutter through the grove -
but smile among God's treasure trove!

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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June 25, 2013

Dad's Guitar 6-25-13

Oh, I still hear them from afar -

the strumming strings of dad's guitar.

I reminisce, my memory looms,

as I recall those Gospel tunes.

Respecting others was the rule

each week before our Sunday School

when all the children gathered 'round,

where love for God was always found.

The songs were simple, undisguised.

The children had them memorized.

With message certain, "Do not sin"

the many voices chimed right in.

The little children, guests unnamed,

all sang with voices unashamed.

They sang with all their hearts' desire

with love that raged as spreading fire.

Their simple passion met my ears

and turned emotions into tears.

Though sometimes dad would sing alone,

their smiling faces always shone.

So blessed we were to see the joy,

on every little girl and boy.

Approval came from pastor's nod

as every soul had praised our God.

I reminisce, my memory looms,

as I recall those Gospel tunes.

And I still hear them from afar -

the strumming strings of dad's guitar.

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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June 12, 2013

God's Garden Blooms! 6-12-13

My flower bed had been prepared...
With sacrificing toil -
I'd cultivated, fertilized
the rich, organic soil.
Surrounded by a picket fence,
(a short one painted white) -
it seemed to frame a picture that
was sure a pretty sight.

But absent, garden's bloom.

Though warmth came with the sunshine
and moisture with the rain -
and though I pulled out every weed,
my work was all in vain.
Now why were my vast working hours
I knew were loving deeds,
all proving to be futile -
without mere flower seeds?

Where was the garden's bloom?

"For God so loved the world, that
He gave His only Son..."
The time was past to plant the seed
to see a job well-done.
So flawless is my garden now
with seeds set in the ground -
but faith must wait for grace to touch
the heart until He's found.

Await the gardens bloom...

Then when I least expect results
I see some little sprouts -
that grow from living water as
mere souls begin to shout.
Nights' dark and patient hours end.
The day brings joyous light.
The days have grown His blessings vast -
with souls so vibrant, bright!

Now watch God's garden bloom!

From children, teens and fathers,
from grandma's faithful heart -
from every corner of the earth
watch great compassion start!
For every blooming flower proves
that grace and faith survive,
that Jesus lives within our hearts -
that God is still alive!

And oh, my soul blooms!

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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June 7, 2013

One Final Tear 6-7-13

The heart determines how they flow -

and why they come so fast -

as tears pour down in numbers from

the first to very last.

Long tears were streaming down my face -

for something bad occurred.

And though I focused on my pain -

a distant cry I heard.

Since Eden's lovely garden time,

no tear could so convey,

a love that reached all pinnacles,

as one from Jesus' day.

I sit and ponder now and then

behind my tears until -

I must accept that God knows best -

and understands me still.

Yes, Jesus knows my sorrows and -

He knows my every fear.

He knows my every burden and -

He knows my every tear.

I wonder then, of all the tears,

which rids me of my grief?

And which tear holds the answer to

my comfort, peace, relief?

Before His death, His tears were great.

He loved me through those nails...

And then one final tear was shed -

for Jesus never fails.

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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May 22, 2013

Oh, Tiny Bud 5-22-13

Oh, tiny bud here on this branch
and many more that have no chance
in this dark world that no one sees -
the lost and silent "least of these".

They're covered up by others full,
with blooming blossoms, beautiful -
that dance so freely in the wind -
but oh, they do not know they've sinned.

The 'winners' flaunt their daily lives
when pride's indulging self arrives -
ignoring young and helpless, those
with hungry gut and dirty clothes.

While all those 'winners' seem to choose
different blossoms, different hues -
the traffic, loud, goes flying by.
...Seems no one cares which makes me cry.

But time will tell on judgement day
when all their wealth will have no say.
Still, God allows both rain and mud
and nourishes this tiny bud.

Oh, tiny bud here on this branch
and many more that have no chance
in this dark world that no one sees -
the lost and silent "least of these".

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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May 13, 2013

In Melodies 5-13-13

As seagulls soar above the seas -

as busy as the honey bees -

and free of want, of any need,

light fingers float on ivory keys.

My arms reach out and grope so much

to sounds my soul seems deemed to clutch.

The music makes my soul sing out.

How eloquent- how soft the touch.

The melody I hear again.

My cheeks are soaked down to my chin -

I listen more- a hundred times!

How can I store them all within?

If I could mute out all the 'norm'

with notes so delicately warm -

so we, God's face, in them could see -

oh how, if I could so perform...

And yet the keys were touched so crisp,

that even sounds from roses lisp

had scattered petals through the sky,

that danced both to and fro in wisp.

Descending tenderly they near

and float emotions on my ear -

in melodies with eloquence -

that softly fade- then disappear...

The missing notes, God does forgive.
Instead of taking, I should give -

in love, as Jesus gave to me.
My life, like music, I must live.

(inspired by the musical talent of Mark Greer)

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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May 12, 2013

World Without 5-12-13

If world had no sunshine

and world had no rain,

if world had no flowers

and world saw no gain -

then many, my tears

if I pondered awhile,

to think of God's world

without mama's warm smile.

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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May 5, 2013

Over The Crest 5-5-13

Whew! I finally made it to the shore. My boat- a mangled mess.

I prayed a "Thank You!" to my God as God can always bless.

I dropped on shore exhausted so that I could catch my breath.

and thankful, was, that I escaped a close and certain death!

The storm clouds hovered up above. They seemed to follow me -

yet now I'll be among my own and very happy be.

I rested some and then stood up on firm and solid ground.

There was a steep and rugged hill but first, I looked around.

I fought that ocean mightily- then shook my angry fist.

I scoffed at those huge laughing waves- as I could not resist.

No longer, rations, I would need now not a bit depraved.

On solid ground, I threw them out- because my life was saved!

I yelled, "You'll never beat me! Not even at high tide!

Take this... and this... and this!" I said and threw my gear aside.

Then quietly a wave had came and carried it all out -

but I was safely on the shore. With that, there was no doubt.

So then I started climbing up the steep and rugged hill.

Though it was tough, I challenged it with persevering will.

I did not want to hear again- those angry waves today.

Each step I took put space between and furthered me away.

And finally, I neared the top. I sat to rest a bit.

I surveyed my accomplishments. I won, I must admit.

I think that God looks down on me and sees my work and smiles.

I think that's why He knows that I can handle all my trials.

And then I pulled myself on up a little to the west -

but oh, my eyes grew bigger as I peered over the crest.

The moral of this story is: Don't be too proud because -

it humbled me to see this sight. I, on an island, was.

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

Maybe the 'Garden of Eden' wasn't so bad after all...

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Proverbs 16:18 (KJV)

18 Pride goeth before destruction, and an haughty spirit before a fall.

April 30, 2013

It Is True 4-30-13

His clock set on the mantle.

The chime had faded nigh.
The sound had died without a tear.

I did not wonder why...

Not once had I heard father say,
"My daughter, I love you."

I guess I'd always wondered.
Did he? Was it true?

---

I saw a paper on his desk. A quill, upon it, laid.

The paper held some words in ink that soon came to my aid.

I sat upon his wooden chair that saw some better years.

And when I read the words he wrote, I burst out into tears.

He seemed to thrive at this old desk. He seemed to like it so.

He seemed to want to help the sick - and others feeling low.

There comes a time when words must end and pen must be set down.

There comes a time when body dies - each verb, each subject, noun.

His hand had dropped that feathered pen. His inkwell tipped and dried.

It seems he wrote his final thoughts on this before he died.

His strength had left his body. Life's clock had taken toll.

When all his words had been used up, the last few left his soul...

BUT JOY survives the darkest night when Jesus lights the dawn!

And though the greatest poet fades, his words are never gone.

They're written for the ages. They're never obsolete.

They're just as true as they were then - and lovingly complete.

There comes a time when someone else must take the feathered quill -

the quill that wrote so many words - and these that I hold still.

His hand had shaken violently where smears of ink had dried -

and this now pulls tears down my cheeks the day after he died.

I stared again at his last words, though splattered so with ink -

and read each word quite carefully - then paused a bit to think.

Expressed, he did, his final thoughts on paper I now cleave -

because he spilled his life on it. And so I do believe.

---

His clock set on the mantle.

The chime had faded nigh.

My joyful tears were flowing now.

His words the reason why:

"I never heard my daughter say,
'Father, I love you.'

But you, my dear, I've always loved.
Believe it. It is true."

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

Never fail to say, "I love you." and mean it.

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April 25, 2013