Najnowsze prace:

Poezja

	louis gander
	PROFIL O autorze Przyjaciele (74) Poezja (81) Fotografia (2) Dziennik (6)

najnowsze najwyżej punktowane najczęściej komentowane

louis gander, 23 września 2012

Prayer Of Thanksgiving

The table, set with centerpiece,
fine china, silverware -
and food prepared deliciously
with tender loving care -
and hungry eye, I relish this -
this meal, my daily bread -
then fold my hands and bow my head
before my prayer is said.

I do recite it quick and slurred,
but with the best intent -
and now that grace is said and heard,
it is a blessed event.
The phrases I was taught to say
were pressed down deep in me -
but words are empty without thoughts
of pure sincerity.

Yes, just before we eat, we pray,
but there's a place so crude
which moves us closer to the truth -
that others have no food.
It haunts me as I look around, the
visions of the starved -
who wide-eyed blankly stare at me
behind my turkey, carved.

I see their bloated tummies and
the flies around their eyes.
I hear soft moans from babies lips,
the echoes of their cries.
I taste the mush that they call food.
It lingers on my breath.
I feel the tears start down my cheeks.
I smell the stench of death.

I hesitate with my first bite,
I ask myself, "Do I
really care they're teary eyed
and hungry 'til they die?"
I pray that all the "least of these"
are eating well in Heav'n.
Please help me Lord, to understand
the blessings I was giv'n.

So now when I recite my prayer,
as I sit down to feast,
I ask myself if I'm sincere
and thankful in the least.
For that's when I can hear my voice
ascending to His ear.
He knows if I speak empty words
or if I am sincere.

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

-------

liczba komentarzy: 2 | punkty: 3 | szczegóły

louis gander, 9 września 2012

Adrift!

Waves were crashing everywhere -
port, starboard, forward, aft...
My troubles kept on pouring in,
upon my humble raft.

Typhoon winds of pain whipped up -
first one way, then the other.
My earthly troubles slashed about -
another and another.

Adrift on troubled waters,
but where? I did not know!
Yet here out on the stormy seas -
there was dark death below.

The shark infested waters
that I remember still -
snapped temptations fangs at me
and broke my fragile will.

And then on top of everything,
it couldn't get much worse -
when wet, dense fog surrounded me -
my little faith, a curse.

I screamed from fetal position,
"Do something! Please... You must!"
My fist shook at the Heavens.
I lacked sufficient trust.

I threw my hands up in the air
and wondered, "What's the use?"
Now isn't this the way life goes
as sodden ropes let loose!

The wicked waves tore at the logs.
My raft began to split.
Apart, my hopes were shattered then.
What could I do, but quit?

And then when giving up on life -
I saw - but could it be??
Walking troubled waters there -
my Lord had came toward me!

But raft continued breaking up.
The waves were just too great...
My groping arms flung out to Him -
but I was just too late...

With remnants of my raft adrift -
this Jesus disappeared!
Out in the fog He vaporized -
a sick mirage, I feared.

The gift of life is special -
but eternal life much more.
For Jesus was my sacrifice,
and who that cross was for.

Were hope and faith both obsolete
as waves crashed on my back?
Last remnants of my raft dispersed -
and everything went black.

Engulfed by churning breakers,
my feet touched solid stone...
God's precious love threw me to shore!
I never was alone!

I'm thankful God broke up my raft.
Could I have asked for more?
That raft was really nothing with -
my Jesus on the shore!

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

-------

Psalm 23:4
"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."

liczba komentarzy: 0 | punkty: 4 | szczegóły

louis gander, 19 lipca 2012

True Love

So many things in body / soul
are empty, undefined -
but read this poem carefully,
and answers you may find.

The knowledge of the Love of God,
comes through in loving stages -
so see if you can find a clue -
within this couple's ages...

.......

The couple faced each other close,
while standing toe to toe.
The clear new day was very young.
They had no place to go.

His right hand held her left hand and,
His left hand held her right.
He slid a daisy through her hair.
She was a pretty sight.

The springtime breezes did not quell
the sun's most warmest rays.
As ocean waves kept rolling in,
they held the longest gaze.

Her face was like a sunshine's glow.
Her toes sank in the sand.
Her hair flipped in the open breeze.
Her fingers squeezed his hand.

Some folks had paused and stared a bit
when softly came the kiss -
but never would a moment pass,
a moment quite like this.

And with these two, that special time
would never go away -
for faithful is that one true love.
There is no better way.

So scenic was the sandy beach,
so beautiful, the pair -
yet only God creates true love
that I saw perfect there.

.......

Now just in case you're wondering,
what ages they could be...
Well, she's but two years younger than
his age of eighty-three.

So if assumptions, you had made -
in poem told above -
then you have also missed the mark,
of true Agape Love.

Therefore, question all the writings,
discovered here and there,
that often miss the God of Love -
the hearer of each prayer.

And don't have shallow notions or,
wear blinders to 'believe' -
or come to some conclusion that
some well-known 'experts' weave.

Sometimes we think we know it all,
when all the facts we weigh -
but we do not create the God
who loves us every day.

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

-------

liczba komentarzy: 0 | punkty: 2 | szczegóły

louis gander, 17 lipca 2012

An Obvious Need

“Dear Lord and Savior, hear my plea.
I've one request - wait, two or three....
This time though, I'm in a fix,
so maybe there'll be five or six....

Please answer quickly, hear me now
and I'll pray daily - that's my vow.
Unlike before, please don't postpone,
for really Lord, You should have known.

I've sacrificed so much for You,
for years been nagged by 'you know who'....
The children too, yell at the spouse -
we really need a larger house....

My boat is bleached from Your hot sun
so I really need a brand new one.
My wardrobes full - but can't wear those -
for Heaven knows I need new clothes.

You know I just went out to eat,
‘all I could eat' - wow, what a treat -
topped it off with cream and cake -
so take away my stomachache.

I've tried so hard to lose some weight,
from all this fat that You create....
I feel so tired and weak somehow,
so give me strength - I need it now.

Well, thank You for my new guitar,
my brand new camper, one more car,
but vacation's what I really need -
roller coasters, lots of speed.

You are so great. I know You care,
so answer now - my simple prayer.
These aren't mere words, these are my needs
and if You grant, I've more good deeds....

There's so much more I'd ask of You,
with credit cards long overdue....
But you, dear Lord, must surely know,
the fish are biting - I must go.

I only ask for what I need.
These are not 'wants' so please proceed.
Stay close to me - I'll call again.
Please grant me what I need, Amen.”

©2007 louis gander - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http://www.ganderpoems.org/

-------

liczba komentarzy: 0 | punkty: 2 | szczegóły

louis gander, 16 lipca 2012

The Ol' Barn

There was a barn once painted red
which stood on grandpa's old homestead.
T'was built so very long ago -
a sorry sight. I told him so.

I often, as a boy, had wondered
why it hadn't ever timbered.
I knew the sagging rafters creaked
and roof, with missing shingles, leaked.

I stepped inside, the barn doors gone,
found it home for sparrows' song.
Circled they, around freely,
over the floors in man's debris.

No matter which way I would glance,
dust in sunlight rays would dance.
Warning cobwebs seemed to sketch.
Between the timbers, they would stretch.

Foundation laid in cobblestone
but its sure footing wasn't known.
Between some stones were gaping cracks
that could not hide the basic facts.

Every post in building leaned,
wall to wall had needed cleaned.
Winter winds would whistle through.
That big ol' barn had lost, I knew.

Its only purpose, couldn't render -
so it offered full surrender.
The weather's sin had taken toll
and wind and sleet had found its soul.

That ol' barn is much like us
and in our need we'll make a fuss.
Our sagging souls are so uncouth
that we no longer seek the truth.

Deceit flies in our open door
'til we care little anymore.
We’d rather compromise instead
as cobwebs fill our empty head.

Our minds are filled in sins' debris
with anyone whom we agree.
The love is lost between our bones
and leaves us cold, loosened stones.

Will our beliefs stand firm, upright -
or will we yield to stormy blight?
Are we responsible instead -
or our character really dead?

Now over the years, time has lapsed
and long ago that barn collapsed.
Now as I look at its demise,
I listen to the worlds last cries....

©2008 louis gander ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
http://www.ganderpoems.org/

-------

liczba komentarzy: 0 | punkty: 3 | szczegóły

louis gander, 22 grudnia 2011

It's Beginning To Look A Lot Like Jesus

To the tune of:
"It's Beginning To Look A Lot Like Christmas"

It's beginning to look a lot like Jesus,
everywhere we go.
Take a look at the Christmas birth. Seeing it once again -
it warms our hearts and makes our spirit's glow.
It's beginning to look a lot like Jesus,
miracles in store -
but the prettiest sight to see
is the baby that will be -
who we can't ignore.

With no pair of sandals and cross with no handles,
He carried it right up until -
the weight was tremendous, our actions horrendous -
He fell halfway up the hill.
The soldier men, so full of sin, just wanted to torture and kill.

It's beginning to look a lot like Jesus,
as we knew before -
so Christians must always be, like the Jesus that we see -
in a world at war...

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

liczba komentarzy: 0 | punkty: 6 | szczegóły

louis gander, 3 grudnia 2011

Log Cabin Christmas

You ask about this picture
that hangs here on my wall?
Many thoughts come to my mind.
I can't recall it all.

It's of our old log cabin
that stood along a stream -
nestled in a heavy woods
with weather most extreme.

The summer heat, unbearable,
preceded autumn hues -
and winter brought the heavy snow
which drooped the many yews.

Our hard work filled the wood box.
Much colder times, there'd be.
I'd follow dad's familiar tracks -
to seek a Christmas tree.

A chair set by the window,
sat I, upon the chair -
peering down our old dirt road
with grandpa not yet there.

The sunrise and the sunset
was all the clock we had -
so hours I would be on watch
with brother, mom and dad.

So patiently the snowfall
would cling to window sill.
Serene and quiet were those days -
snow blanketing each hill.

Then at last his carriage came,
bouncing up the drive.
Anticipation answered,
and Christmas came alive.

The planks beneath dad's footsteps
sounded from the floor.
He gave a pat as he walked by,
then answered our front door.

The gift that I received that day
came in a homemade box.
I opened it and once again -
long underwear and socks.

Toys were quite a rarity.
I thought it not unfair -
for on those chilly winter nights,
I didn't really care.

The fire dancing in the hearth
was better than fine art -
and love was not for brand new toys -
but rather from the heart.

The inconvenient hardships
were really not so bad.
Grandpa and my family,
were really all I had.

Sunday was our day of rest
that I enjoyed the most -
when father parked our wagon near
the church's hitching post.

Patience filled our earnest souls,
charity, the mind -
and my most precious presents now,
are memories, every kind.

We bore so many crosses
with work and suffering -
but they bound us together and,
I wouldn't change a thing.

If now an opportunity
brought back 'the good old days',
I'd trade todays conveniences
for more rewarding ways.

I don't regret my childhood.
I would not trade the years.
Now please, you must forgive me for
my sentimental tears...

Oh goodness, my - how time does fly!
It's almost half-past seven!
But stories more, you'll hear some day
when we meet up in Heaven.

So that's my picture on my wall,
reminding me of Christmas -
a world of true tranquility -
where I found love for Jesus.

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

liczba komentarzy: 0 | punkty: 8 | szczegóły

louis gander, 1 grudnia 2011

So Far To Go

The year, I'm told, is eighteen-ten.
The weather's dry and hot.
I 'reckon dad knows where to go.
The horses do not trot.
We're tired and very thirsty,
with rations, water low.
The wagon trails' a long one and,
we have so far to go.

The wagon covers' full of holes
and leaks each time it rains.
The mud strains both the horses.
Our perseverance wanes.
But persevere, we can and must.
That's what mere patience proves -
while breathing in the trail dust
behind the horses hooves.

Supplies? ...almost depleted.
Before I go to sleep,
I lay awake, my stomach hurts,
I hear my mother weep.
The bread, she trims the mold from -
it helps my hunger pangs.
A line is stretched above my head.
Our dripping laundry hangs.

I'm not the wisest western child
I don't know very much.
I'm not quite sure how 'blessings' work,
and 'thankfulness' and such.
But Jesus, we are so obliged -
for shoes that fit our feet,
safety from the wolves and snakes,
and berries we can eat.

I'm sorry that I think of corn,
potatoes, peas or fish -
but if I lived in different times,
or place - that'd be my wish.
I'd eat just like a gentleman.
I'd eat my last string bean.
I'd eat what others did not want -
then lick their dishes clean.

Sometimes my mom... I'll see a tear.
She hides it pretty good.
But Jesus, I know mother -
she'd help me if she could.
She stays up nights when I am sick.
I hear her prayers to You.
She shows her love to everyone
and knows just what to do.

So answer, Jesus, my small prayer...
I ask it for our Nation -
that it would always thankful be -
bent not unto temptation.
I wonder if Americans
will ever truly know -
this wagon trails' a long one and,
we have so far to go.

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

-------

liczba komentarzy: 0 | punkty: 6 | szczegóły

louis gander, 30 listopada 2011

Terror & Blessings

Terror on the rampage,
terror in the sky,
terror in the cities,
terror by and by -
with no concern and no remorse
with cold and callous sigh -
enjoyment from the children with
their most despondent cry.
Death is by the devil,
where hate and anger lie,
terrorizing innocent,
until they see them die.

Blessings by the number,
blessings by the score,
blessings from the Heavens,
blessings that outpour -
to each of God's creation,
yet then He gave us more -
a Son who came to save the lost,
with crown of thorns He wore.
With nails in His hands and feet,
from terrors' angry roar.
The greatest of all blessings,
though terror wanted more.

Spiritual life
to terror's death...
who took dust
and gave us breath?
No matter how dumb
or how naive -
no matter what man
still wants to believe -
earth is below
and Heaven's above -
God is love.
God is love.
God is love.

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

liczba komentarzy: 2 | punkty: 6 | szczegóły

louis gander, 29 listopada 2011

SPEED!

The hare runs very swiftly,
for ten years he can go -
but patient, walks the turtle for
a hundred years or so...

---

Rounding curves, squealing with a
couple hundred horses -
stretched out over lawful edge,
anticipating forces.

Sporty style and glossy paint -
surpassing every class -
clean and polished, buffed and waxed,
with tinted window glass.

Transmissions humming through the gears,
bring screeching to the tires -
and then the booming drowns the streets -
huge speakers strung with wires.

Flying off at green lights hue,
with pedals under lead -
wasting gas, polluting air,
to break at every red...

The pedals crush the metal flat
with heavy laden feet -
yet idle through the drive ups then,
for food that's good to eat.

Running full in circles wide,
while rushing far and near -
important is the coffee cup,
some cigarettes or beer.

Another day, another laugh,
for fun is not a crime!
Let's get the guys together 'cause -
it's almost party time!

Then sharp, the sirens pierce the night,
and everything goes wrong...
A child wandered in the street.
The doctors take too long.

So many people crying,
so many people sad -
so many people blaming God,
so many people mad.

This poem's not about a car,
a cycle, or a van -
but oh, about the drivers there,
the much impatient man...

---

Now God created turtles,
and God created hares -
but then created patient man,
if patient are his prayers.

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

-------

PLEASE DRIVE SAFELY - ALWAYS!