Harold & Steve 12-11-14

Out hanging, two icicles born on an eve.

Now one was named Harold; the other one, Steve.

Well, Harold was jealous and you would be too

for Steve had an awesome, spectacular view.

But hanging 'round corner, ten shingles or so,

was poor, lonely Harold and wouldn't you know -

that Harold, if his, would have made different plans.

Instead he was stuck over two garbage cans.

The stench and the odor was too much to bear

while Steve was out front there enjoying fresh air.

Oh, fair? It was not and it made Harold mad,

so angry, despondent, depressed and so sad.

And wouldn't you know that Steve had grown quicker,

had grown so much stronger, bigger and thicker.

But Harold was just a wee bit of a thing -

not much to look at and not interesting.

You know, children grow up, but icicles down

and Harold grew lower with saddest of frown.

And that is why Steve had made fun of his friend.

His bullying never, seemed never to end.

He gloated that he was too solid to break.

He boasted that he could see sunsets, the lake.

And this had gone on through the long winter days

but Harold, one day changed his sad lonely ways.

He sang Christmas hymns of when Jesus was born;

continued it non-stop each ev'ning 'til morn.

So Steve, you might guess, was a bit envious.

Bewildered he was, that Harold was joyous.

Though droplets of water, off Harold, would splash

on top of that putrid and stinky old trash -

dear Harold accepted the life that God gave him -

no matter how boring or troubled or grim.

He knew that God's love was unprecedented

and that made him happy, joyous, contented.

Then one day, dear Harold, had heard a loud splat -

and he never heard from ol' Steve after that.

---

The moral to poem here simply increases -

each time you hear bullies are falling to pieces.

Someone please tell me if this life has mattered,

when our hopes are lost and our goals are shattered.

And Harold, you ask? What has happened to him?

Well, he was still singing an old gospel hymn,

as angels had seen him and anxiously stated,

"All Heaven rejoice! He evaporated."

©2014 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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King Garland 12-4-14

Oh, once upon a selfish time

King Garland had his reign,

but he had planned an evil scheme

that no one could contain.

Before the holidays arrived

his men would decorate.

Besieged with colored lighting grand,

while subjects would await.

Bright lights were hung and garland strung

from pillars through the halls,

but never was there quite enough

for old King Garland's walls.

He called his servants, gave to them

decree that he had signed,

to confiscate all garland 'round -

each piece that they could find.

So all his men went out that day

collecting all they could.

They entered every store and home

and left their walls bare wood.

They brought back all their garland, lights

and even decorations -

in hopes that they'd impress the king,

(win his admiration).

Well, mothers wept and children cried.

Oh, what were they to do?

Have Christmas without colored lights?

Their deep frustrations grew.

They came from every shop and home -

from even desert sand,

to protest theft of Christmastime

from all across their land.

They gathered at the castle walls.

The protesters would scream.

The king had fin'lly heard enough

and thought them most extreme.

Concocted, he, pathetic lies -

some great deceptive lines...

He'd either calm the crowd a bit,

or threaten them with fines.

But on his way to balcony,

we witnessed quite a sight.

At top of stairs, his crown got snagged

on just one garland's light.

He quickly grasped his priceless crown

so it would not fall off...

(the queen had started laughing but

she hid it with a cough).

From that point on it went downhill.

On garland, he had stumbled.

And then the laughter opened up

when we saw how he tumbled...

...bouncing down the stairway toward

the great, grand balcony

where ev'ryone was gathered 'round,

where ev'ryone could see.

Well, how it happened, we're not sure

but crowd was quite aghast.

The king, himself, embarrassed.

It happened all so fast.

With garland tangled 'round his foot

the crowd let out a cheer -

for king was swinging up-side-down

below the chandelier!

T'was then the king decided that,

(because of his bad fall),

that ev'ry single Christmas should

be lived by one and all.

So handed back, was ev'ry piece

of garland that he stole.

The people had their Christmas back -

while king had gotten coal.

The moral of this poem?

Do not be some pathetic fool

who let's greed have its way.

You cannot steal the Spirit from

the folk on Christmas day.

Treat others, not as subjects, but

respect them all instead.

If selfish, ever, you become,

may blood rush to your head.

©2014 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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Precious Memories 12-2-14

As I sit in my rocker,

here looking at our tree,

the Christmas lights and ornaments

are shining back on me.

Oh those precious mem'ries

of places long ago.

Oh, those precious mem'ries,

a-sledding in the snow!

We wiggled as we giggled and

our faces were aglow!

Oh those precious mem'ries -

a-bouncing down we'd go!

As I sit in my rocker

just looking at your face,

your eyes reflect the sparkling

of flames in fireplace.

Oh, those precious mem'ries.

of trudging up the hill.

Oh, those precious mem'ries.

We sledded down until -

you tipped the sled right over and

it gave us both a thrill!

Oh, those precious mem'ries.

That snow gave us a chill.

As I sit in my rocker.

and you sit there in yours,

I realize we're holding hands

as faithfulness endures.

Oh, those precious mem'ries.

Again, we'd get a shove.

Oh, those precious mem'ries.

Remember your lost glove?

Remember way atop the hill

that seemed so far above?

Oh, those precious mem'ries -

the day we fell in love.

As we sit in our rockers,

and you begin to snore -

I realize that every day

I love you more and more.

Oh, those precious mem'ries.

Oh, those precious mem'ries..

Oh, those precious mem'ries...

©2014 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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Did I Forget 11-26-14

If heart is hard, my eyes are dry.

Have I forgotten how to cry?

Can I still weep? Do I know how?

Where are my tears? Where are they now?

Did I forget the virgin birth,

that Jesus healed, of Jesus' worth?

Did I forget when Jesus prayed,

before arrest, was then betrayed?

Did I forget that they abused,

beat, mocked and whipped - and then accused?

Did I forget the gross details,

the crown of thorns, the piercing nails?

Did I forget He paid the price?

Did I forget His sacrifice?

Did I forget down through the years -

of Jesus' blood, of Jesus' tears?

Did I forget while knowing this -

I lived a life of ease and bliss

...my roof above, my car, my shoes,

that I have food, the clothes I choose?

If heart is hard, my eyes are dry.

Have I forgotten how to cry?

Can I still weep? Do I know how?

Where are my tears? Where are they now?

©2014 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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Romans 12 (NASB)

Therefore I urge you, brethren, by the mercies of God, to present your bodies a living and holy sacrifice, acceptable to God, which is your spiritual service of worship. 2 And do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind, so that you may prove what the will of God is, that which is good and acceptable and perfect.

3 For through the grace given to me I say to everyone among you not to think more highly of himself than he ought to think; but to think so as to have sound judgment, as God has allotted to each a measure of faith. 4 For just as we have many members in one body and all the members do not have the same function, 5 so we, who are many, are one body in Christ, and individually members one of another. 6 Since we have gifts that differ according to the grace given to us, each of us is to exercise them accordingly: ifprophecy, according to the proportion of his faith; 7 if service, in his serving; or he whoteaches, in his teaching; 8 or he who exhorts, in his exhortation; he who gives, withliberality; he who leads, with diligence; he who shows mercy, with cheerfulness.

9 Let love be without hypocrisy. Abhor what is evil; cling to what is good. 10 Be devoted to one another in brotherly love; give preference to one another in honor; 11 not lagging behind in diligence, fervent in spirit, serving the Lord; 12 rejoicing in hope, persevering in tribulation, devoted to prayer, 13 contributing to the needs of the saints, practicing hospitality.

14 Bless those who persecute you; bless and do not curse. 15 Rejoice with those who rejoice, and weep with those who weep. 16 Be of the same mind toward one another; do not be haughty in mind, but associate with the lowly. Do not be wise in your own estimation. 17 Never pay back evil for evil to anyone. Respect what is right in the sight of all men. 18 If possible, so far as it depends on you, be at peace with all men. 19 Never take your own revenge, beloved, but leave room for the wrath of God, for it is written, “Vengeance is Mine, I will repay,” says the Lord. 20 “But if your enemy is hungry, feed him, and if he is thirsty, give him a drink; for in so doing you will heap burning coals on his head.” 21 Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.

Laying Bricks 11-22-14

My life, I'd built with heavy bricks -

each day set on another.

When mortared in with selfishness

I stacked them with another.

So proud I was of what I'd built,

a life of great success -

that I had so convinced myself

that God would surely bless.

But lies, deceit had ruined me

by devious elite!

My bricks came tumbling down one day

and crumbled 'round my feet.

Self pity drew long tears for years,

my future looked so dim.

No longer good for me to hold,

I gave those bricks to Him.

When He accepted all those bricks

I had no place to hide -

so humbleness came over me

and vanquished all my pride.

Oh, why had Jesus taken them -

those bricks that gave me loss?

My sins, my burdens, all those bricks

had nailed Him to the cross!

More tears began to soak my cheeks.

The floodgates opened wide.

Then Jesus took those very bricks

and set them all aside.

He soaked them in His loving grace,

then paved long streets of gold.

And then prepared, He more of them,

much greater to behold.

If we could only look beyond

our selfish, little wall,

we'd catch a glimpse of miracle,

the greatest of them all.

It rises up through wonderment,

past clouds of earthly lies,

to castle built with bricks of grace,

that reach the highest skies.

My tears no longer need to wash -

my selfish bricks away -

for I'm inside His castle now,

"forgiven" you might say.

Content and happy I am now

to know He's given me -

a life to prove my faithfulness,

through pure sincerity.

Yes, living in this castle that's

awash in loving hues -

awash in grace above it all,

a place 'the lost' can choose.

I look outside its window now

down to the busy street,

at people who are like I was -

where Christ, they too could meet.

But Jesus sees them walking by -

as they're too blind to see -

too blind by their distracting walls,

with lives that are not free...

...not free from selfish, sinful bricks

so mortared tight with pride,

they cannot see beyond their walls

to Christ on other side.

At times I see an infant child.

For 'wants' they had been sold.

But Jesus takes them in His arms,

though motionless and cold...

...and there on streets now paved with gold

where sin can be undone,

in loving hands, He breathes new life

into each little one.

Please tell me, can you shed some tears

to wash away your bricks -

your bricks of futile, selfish days

that only Christ can fix?

Please tell me, can you shed some tears

to wash away your days -

your days of labor laying bricks

for lighter, joyous ways?

©2014 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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When Under Knife 11-17-14

If Tom, the turkey, you had been -

what would you tell the Butcher when

he raised his knife Thanksgiving Day?

Well, listen to what 'Tom' would say:

---

"Remember children, love your mom.

Respect her as you did this 'tom'.

Oh, don't be selfish.  Don't be mean

and don't be giddy or obscene.

There's something I must let them do

and some day you may need to too.

You'll know, one day, what it's about

but do not fear and do not pout.

We sacrifice for those we love

as Jesus did once up above

when He was hung upon that tree

for people all around you see.

So do not think about yourselves.

Protect those eggs there on the shelves.

And live a life that God can bless,

a life of love and faithfulness."

---

At that, the butcher raised his knife

and ended then, a fulfilled life

that blessed the hungry, cold and weak.

When under knife, how would you speak?

©2014 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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Path Beyond Trees, The 11-13-14

Do you only believe what's in front of your eyes,

not gravity ever - or winds that arise?

Are you blind to the truth
because of one tree?

Oh, where is the forest
that you cannot see?

And where is your faith when filled with temptation?

Do you trust mere eyes that see only creation?

Some worship mere trees
or shallow, lost sects

while some think they're priv'leged,
who God elects.

Yes, many are lost from Creator they seek,

the forest of truth is unknown and looks bleak.

They love themselves
instead of "these".
They can't see forest
because of the trees.

They think they know salvation.  They don't.
They think they'll see Jesus.  They won't.

They love their lives
and things on shelves.
They love attention,
and themselves.

Your faith is the key!  Unlock forest's door!

The path beyond trees finds grace and much more!

©2014 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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Matthew 7:22, 23 (NASB)
22 "Many will say to Me on that day,
'Lord, Lord, did we not prophesy in Your name,
and in Your name cast out demons,
and in Your name perform many miracles?'
23 "And then I will declare to them, 'I never knew you;
DEPART FROM ME, YOU WHO PRACTICE LAWLESSNESS.'

With His Remaining Breath 11-8-14

He overflows his plate with food,

anticipating taste.

He overflows his closets too

not caring of the waste.

He has to have the finest car

with leather seats and 'air'.

His bank accounts are just for him.

For poor?  He doesn't care.

Huge profits fill his bank accounts.

His profiting is fun.

He'd sell his soul to profit more.

He'd sell to anyone.

His home, he fills with furniture,

the finest he can find.

He then enjoys his fav'rite game

to ease his guilty mind.

He fills his days with everything

and his most latest whim.

And this 'enjoyment' fills his life.

He fills his life with him.

I pity such a person who

has no room in his heart -

for God or love or charity -

who fin'lly falls apart.

How guilty, lonely he will be

just days before his death.

Oh, he'll recall his life of 'self'

with his remaining breath.

©2014 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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We Have A Choice 10-15-14

My friends and I just hung around

in places one might find profound -

on maples, oaks and other trees -

because, you see, we were mere leaves.

The autumn winds, oh how they blew.

They made us dance and wiggle too.

Deception's lie rode in the wind

had made us 'want' and we had sinned.

The bees were buzzing in their hive.

It wasn't fair they were alive.

It wasn't fair that we weren't free

for we were stuck here on this tree.

But then my friends had found, one day,

just how to ride a special way.

They laughed and giggled by and by

upon the wind.  How they could fly!

So gaily and so selfishly,

they joked around so carelessly.

Exciting times, it seemed they had.

They thought it funny they were bad.

"Come join the party we will throw."

They taunted me and screamed, "Let go!"

My friends had left me one by one,

but wicked winds are never done.

The windy, frigid swirling air

had tortured me.  It didn't care.

Except for me, the tree was bare

and I was so alone up there.

Oh yes, temptation had its grip -

but I held on despite the whip

of winds that howled around the limbs.

For I had faith and gospel hymns.

I prayed and prayed to God above,

for He had shown me so much love.

My friends had fallen, didn't know

they now were buried under snow.

The moral of the story here?

Don't be deceived by friend or peer.

Just listen to God's still, small voice.

He gave His Son.  We have a choice.

©2014 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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Matthew 7:13-14 (NASB)

The Narrow and Wide Gates

13 “Enter through the narrow gate;

for the gate is wide and the way is broad that leads to destruction,

and there are many who enter through it.

14 For the gate is small and the way is narrow that leads to life,

and there are few who find it.

Reach Out In Love 10-12-14

Each lonely tear ran down a cheek

not caring of another.

And each absorbed in selfish woe

did not know of the other.

Oh, how can we be any good

just thinking of ourselves?

And how can we become like Christ,

if locked inside our shells?

Don't be afraid to break your shell.

Give sacrificially.

Reach out in love with both your arms

and live life faithfully.

Each lonely tear ran down a cheek

not caring of another.

And each absorbed in selfish woe

did not know of the other.

©2014 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

http://www.ganderpoems.org/

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