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That Sweet September
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By Michael P. Johnson
Other Poems by Michael P. Johnson

That Sweet September

How I bless that sweet September

The day my Saviour came

How distinctly I remember

When love condemned my shame

Gladly I gave my heavy load

All filth I cast aside

By faith I took lifeís narrow road

With Heavenís Word as guide

Darkness began to fade away

My soul could see The Light

How could one fail why would one stray

From which was plain in sight

The bibleís true! Godís Promise real

Salvationís on the wing

I have His Word His Holy Seal

As heir to Heavenís King

Iíve seen The Truth I know The Way

My future Godís made known

Iíll live to serve until the day

He calls me to His throne

With grace Iíll meet eternity

Through Christ Iíll never die

His blood has washed has set me free

And paved my path on high

Iím spreading Truth to those I meet

Family neighbours and friends

ďCome join me at The Saviourís feet

Before your life here ends

Our God is right His Promise sure

Heíll meet your need to stand

Heíll give you strength to all endure

When taking Jesusí handĒ.....

How I bless that sweet September

The day my Saviour came

How distinctly I remember

When love condemned my shame

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Submitted: Tuesday, October 2, 2012

Last Updated: Tuesday, October 2, 2012

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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