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Like Little Children
Viewed Last 24 Hours: 1 time

By Michael P. Johnson
Other Poems by Michael P. Johnson


Like Little children


How many children knock the door?

Only to runaway

Others play games upon the floor

Whilst few seek God and pray


We all to God are children still

We love to play the fool

We search the world for things to thrill

And break God’s every rule


God sees our heart our every flaw

The thirst we have for fun

He sees when Jesus knocks our door

How fast from Him we run


Yet we as children shouldn’t hide

When Jesus rings our bell

Instead our doors should open wide

To flee from death and hell


When then we turn from foolish crimes

Take hold The Saviours hand

There’ll be such sad, no wondrous times

The world can’t understand


No teeth will rot from Heaven’s sweet

No childlike soul will die

Blessed is the child at Jesus’ feet

Blessed will they rise on high


Though still at times He’ll take the rod

To sheep when running wild

He sees who’s face is turned from God

And wants them reconciled


It matters not if girl or boy

Accept; all God will give

His chastening, take with pure joy

Trust in The Lord and live.....  

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Submitted: Tuesday, January 13, 2015

Last Updated: Tuesday, January 13, 2015

About the Poet
I never wrote a word of poetry in my life. Till the day Jesus took my hand and touched my soul.....I invite your response. However most poems are not about me! Very few are. But the feed-back good, bad or indifferent is always desired. Not meant to offend, but I write about many things in many a guise. Of life, death, lost, found, saved, backsliders, new comers, repenting souls, doubting hearts, heathens, Christians, fire, water, Satan's daughter, wallowing in sin, saved, made sound walking in Light, graceful righteous. Suffering, ecstatic, bored, excited, sad, delighted, Sick, well, lame, able, living, dying, etc. etc. etc. Writing about anything, everything and everyone as the spirit leads. All meant to reveal, waken, revive, encourage, shame, help. Gladden, pick up, exalt, portrait, liberate. Again over 99% of my work is not about me. Although at times I write as though I were or am. Speaking e.g. in the first person. This is quite common even in the bible itself. Prophets speak of themselves, then God speaks, again the prophet, then God......Quite often it's difficult to distinguish whom it is that at any given time is speaking or narrating.

Other Poems by Michael P. Johnson

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