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' Twas Not for Fools
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By Michael P. Johnson
Other Poems by Michael P. Johnson


Twas Not for Fools

Twas not the nails that held Him there

Upon the dreadful tree

But through the love Christ had to share

For you my friend and me

 

Twas not for saints, nor righteous man

Christ freely chose to die

But for each lost each humble man

For you my friend and I

 

Twas not for sloths, nor swift in pace

God’s Son came down to save

But who endure life’s twisted race

Will live to see no grave

 

Twas not those wise, who think they know

Nor those for gain who preach

Who play at church, hinder love’s flow

Salvation’s hand will reach

 

Twas not for lying fools who talk

Gossips who prattle sin

But those who’ll change who’ll seek to walk

Through He who dwells within

 

Twas not for cheats, appearing fine

Who’s souls remain unclean

But those in search of Truth divine

No filth can intervene

 

Twas God always and ever true

Who’s Lamb to die was sent

Who’ll share His life with me and you

If we would but repent!                           

 

Twas grace displayed upon the cross

Selfless obedient love

That man no more should suffer loss

But reign with Christ above.....


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Submitted: Friday, July 22, 2011

Last Updated: Friday, September 23, 2011

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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