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Life At The Well.....
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By Michael P. Johnson
Other Poems by Michael P. Johnson

Does your mouth feel dry, your feet swell?

You’re thirsty more and more

Though bibles contain Heaven’s well

Death; could knock your door


This is no joke, nor fairy tale

Let love explain to you

Life’s literal truth which cannot fail

If you would read it through


Though wondering how where or why

Whatever else we do

Each soul living, one day will die

Except a minute few


While most tarrying in the grave

Will rest through death’s cold kiss

Then one day souls Jesus will save

Will rise to endless bliss


The rest a thousand years or more

Will slumber in their night

Dill death’s forever locks its door

Filling lost souls with fright


Before life’s Judge will each one stand

Each wide-eyed quaking soul

With life’s recordings in His hand

Jesus will read their scroll


Although He died for everyone

Accepted by a few

Believed He Is Christ God’s Son

But how my friend, says you?


It’s not the time a fool to play

But seek God’s grace above

To live and walk salvation’s way

Into the arms of love…..

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Submitted: Monday, July 30, 2018

Last Updated: Monday, July 30, 2018

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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