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




Foolish we doubt, what’s bound to be

Most people think they’re wise

Till death reveals the facts to see

When saint and sinner rise


Both those with faith and who pretend

Will waken from death’s sleep

All heads will bow each knee will bend

Trembling souls will weep


Knowledge will then have songs to sing

When Heaven opens wide

When Jesus Christ as Lord and King

Calls forth His chosen bride


When Satan’s laid his sceptre down

When ailments are no more

When death lays down its dreadful crown

And endless life’s before


A life of light or darkest hell

Of suffering or peace

What will the books of Jesus tell?

When death gives up its lease


Weeping wailing screaming out loud

Fear beyond compare

Beyond the day of Jesus’ cloud

Beyond the time of prayer


Look deep inside today my friend

Does Jesus reign as Lord?

If here and now your life would end

Would death unleash the sword?


The day is here the time is right

Let Jesus loose your chains

Receive God’s grace, life’s robe of white

Whilst blood runs through your veins......

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Submitted: Sunday, May 17, 2015

Last Updated: Sunday, May 17, 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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