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


Sweet Memories


I knocked the door of God last night

I prayed in Jesus’ name

He said He’d give a robe of white

If I would give my shame


I heard it preached in Sunday school

Whilst still a knee high child

Of sinful man’s the devil’s fool

Content in running wild


The thought just never went away

Throughout these many years

Till suddenly the other day

My heart unleashed the tears


I heard a song I used to know

It stopped me in mid stride

The memory of so long ago

Just made me walk inside


A tambourine was keeping beat

A group of six or seven

Dancing waving stamping their feet

Singing songs to Heaven


Turning, they saw me standing there

They called to join the throng

Such wisdom each had then to share

When finished was their song


They spoke of Jesus Christ as friend!

My heart I thought would fly

Inviting me my knee to bend

Repenting sins on high


Life’s Seed was sown and I believed

When tears began to flow

Praising The Lord for fruit received

Through memories long ago.....

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Submitted: Saturday, July 4, 2015

Last Updated: Saturday, July 4, 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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