Louis Gander

Early mornings, I talk to You.
I pray until the sky is blue.
Faithfully I do my chores -
for You are mine and I am Yours.
...

The boy continued working
as people ran on by -
kicking up the sun-dried sand
which stung his little eye.
...

Love is a tough word for men made of steel.
Some cannot say it - despite how they feel.
And way down inside, you'll find at the core,
that few love much higher than eagles can soar.
...

I cannot serve two masters. I serve, but only one,
for if I love some sinfulness, I hate God's only Son.
Could I walk in His sandals? Do I really understand?
Of what would it encompass? Of what would it demand?
...

When I was young,
I often clung,
to many little things.
I'd reach up high,
...

In Jesus' day (some time ago) ,
there were no toys or balls to throw.
There were no bikes or baby chairs,
erector sets or teddy bears.
...

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

The sun was rising in the east
behind some hitching posts.
And weathered boards, on buildings old,
had nothing left to boast.
...

I remember back, when young -
the pirate tales from grandpa's tongue -
where peg-legged men with but one eye
sought their treasures, chanced to die.
...

Tattoo's ink smeared everywhere,
with piercings by the score -
and color-copied rainbow hair,
how can we handle more?
...

“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....
...

Grownups seem so funny. They never seem to change.
‘Specially my ol’ grandma. She always acted strange.
Peculiar smells escaped out when she opened up her door.
And as I stepped into her house - heard creaking in the floor.
...

Words describe so many things,
one beside another;
and words explain an awful lot
but can’t describe my mother.
...

The old locomotive moves 'we the people' on our way.
It's gained a lot of speed from then - until right now, today.
Where is this locomotive? Where is it headed to?
We need to know - for after all - it holds both me and you.
...

From the ground with dust, formed man.
Oh, this world that God began.
He had only asked for 'trust'.
Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.
...

Deep into the woods in my truck I seemed lost.
The brisk, chilly breeze was still holding the frost.
Because it was dried up and totally dead,
I decided to cut down this big tree instead.
...

There was a barn once painted red
which stood on grandpa's old homestead –
and built so very long ago,
a sorry sight - I told him so.
...

It's smaller than a meteor,
and hasn't that much girth,
yet stronger than the largest bomb,
and could destroy the Earth.
...

‘Z’ is last - but not in this poem!
Letters take thought and patience to grow 'em.

‘A’ seems reserved for its special space,
...

Now forty lashes - minus one
The torture, anguish has begun.
Thirty-nine lashes, horrid pain,
I can't endure - but won't complain.
...