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He Did It All.....
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By Michael P. Johnson
Other Poems by Michael P. Johnson


 

He Did It All

 

They hung Him in the early morn

Beyond the midday heat

Whilst gambling for clothes He’d worn

And sandals from His feet

 

Naked He’d come naked He’d gone

He’d lived, tortured till dead

Yet whilst on earth had God’s true Son

No place to lay His head

 

He bore our sickness, woeful curse

Suffered the cross alone

Creator of the universe

Had nought to call His own

 

What glory could His killers see?

What sign from Heaven came?

He said He’d set the captive free

But died festooned in shame

 

Could this; have been The longed for Christ?

What do the scriptures say?

Why would God’s Son be sacrificed?

Why should He die that way?

 

The Christ would right our parent’s wrong

Would bring our enemy down

Would sing with us the victors song

Restoring Adam’s crown

 

Could Heaven’s Truth be made more plain?

Had not these works been done?

Foretold one day He’ll come again

To finish what’s begun

 

We must prepare to meet Him there

Behave The Way we should

In hope eternal life to share

Through Jesus’ cleansing blood..... 


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Submitted: Saturday, February 21, 2015

Last Updated: Saturday, February 21, 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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