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No Place of His Own
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By Michael P. Johnson
Other Poems by Michael P. Johnson


No Place of His Own


The costs of life refuse to fall

House rents are awfully steep

Although one’s home is rather small

We still find room to sleep


But Heaven’s King could find no bed

God’s Son born flesh and bone

No place on earth to rest His head

No home to call His own


To a cattle shed Mary came

Salvation the world to give

Holy; He’d die with all our shame

That all in Him should live


Should now we walk in deep despair?

Knowing God’s Lamb and Son

Knowing by grace His love  we’ll share

When Heaven’s work is done


The bible shows Paul saw The Light

He found The Way to live

Knowing God’s grace, received the sight

Christ Jesus sought to give


Evident; are the things to do

By faith live day to day

Serving Heaven with Christ in view

Walking God’s chosen Way


We’ve food, warm clothes we’re blessed with health

With eyes trained high above

And by God’s grace spiritual wealth

Ordained with Jesus love


Why should we care why should we cry?

Need we ask God for more?

Knowing right now if we should die

We’ll rise though Heaven’s Door.....        

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Submitted: Tuesday, November 18, 2014

Last Updated: Tuesday, November 18, 2014

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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