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

Hospital Rest


“Joyful beside my bed I stand

Though seeing so much pain

I’m so at peace in Jesus’ hand

Through grace, I’m born again


Hospital’s not a place for rest

Some curse, before they die

My God, I see how much I’m blessed

Whilst here to You I cry


Committed nurses share the plight

Of those in deep despair

With such devotion day and night

They show such love and care


For but a moment, doctors come

With words few others know

Leaving their patients lost and numb

When once again they go


Tossing and turning, one by one

At times a nurse they call

Yet who gives thought of Christ Your Son?

Before to sleep they fall?


Yet how am I to tell them Lord?

Amidst each moan and groan?

That in their state, they can’t afford

To live with hearts of stone


Christ died for them upon the cross

That they God’s Truth should learn

For all man’s pain He suffered loss

So why Lord, don’t they turn?


If they’d repent, I know You’d heal

Through faith! You’d set them free

So at my bed again I kneel

Hoping this time they’ll see…..

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Submitted: Saturday, November 17, 2012

Last Updated: Saturday, November 17, 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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