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A Weathered Old Lady
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By Michael P. Johnson
Other Poems by Michael P. Johnson


A Weathered Old Lady


She’d learned so much from true love’s source

Walking beneath His wing

Obedient down Christ’s chosen course

Till death had lost its sting


With radiant joy her days she’ll greet

With peace at night she’ll rest

Serving sitting at Jesus’ feet

Knowing her life’s well blessed


How well she faired on bended knee

When God laid wide His door

Through faith her ancient eyes now see

What few have seen before


Oft crying, from her worn-out chair

From deep within her heart

Praying for people everywhere

God’s grace He would impart


That truth would break each wayward chain

Would flood each heart with light

Would cleanse each one of spot and stain

To clad their souls in white


Though man would see her gaunt and frail

Would see her old and worn

Though love to her has raised the veil

That magnifies life’s dawn


The Door to God’s eternal grace

The gates to life’s divide

Faithful seeking her Saviour’s face

Power to fill His bride


For love to hinder running wild

Relinquish reckless ways

That more to God be reconciled

To set this world ablaze.....

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Submitted: Thursday, May 14, 2015

Last Updated: Thursday, May 14, 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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