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Alone the Bride
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By Michael P. Johnson
Other Poems by Michael P. Johnson


     Alone the Bride

With clapping hands, resounding feet

With hearts that cry aloud

With arms aloft her love to greet

She’ll rise within the cloud


Alone the bride can understand

Just why she waits so long

Pure by faith in Jesus’ hand

She sings her joyful song


Unkempt; her Groom had found her first

In worldly filth she lay

To certain death, slumbering cursed

Awaiting judgement day


Though many years she thought Him due

Upon her hand no ring

The Promise Jesus gave is true

To those beneath His wing


Satan would flood her mind with doubt

Her heart with lust and greed

She knows what grace is all about

That love, meets every need


So full of love she’ll seek The Light

The Light to which she’s born

Her filthy robes now changed for white

She waits her wedding dawn


The table of the feast is laid

The guests all duly told

The dowry of the bride was paid

With blood, instead of gold


Doubters may think The Bridegroom’s late

Yet truth, does not concur

It’s not the bride, who sits in wait

But He awaiting her..…

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Submitted: Thursday, December 20, 2012

Last Updated: Thursday, December 20, 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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