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Need No More
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By Michael P. Johnson
Other Poems by Michael P. Johnson


Need No More


Though Satan would feed cunning lies

His co hordes seek to kill

I need but look in Jesus’ eyes

That love; my soul would fill


Fighting anguish, troubles and pain

Bruises through stick and stone

Face dangers again and again

Than walk through life alone


I need God’s Son I need His hand

Where storms and torrents flow

For this I’ve learned to understand

That Heaven loves us so


Rather go hungry suffer death’s sting

With thorns and thistles entwine

Than face one day without my King

Without Christ’s hand in mine


If He’d leave me, where would I be?

Angst would entomb my mind

Where could I go how could I see?

Without Jesus I’m blind


Without His guidance, I would stray

Without my Saviour's arm

Without life’s Lamp to find The way

I’d reap eternal harm


My future, would be less than dim

Without His grace and care

The thought, of one day without Him

Is more than I can bear


I’m blessed I’ve heard my Saviour’s call

Received life’s Truth divine

Through grace inside I have it all

Since Heaven’s love is mine.....

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Submitted: Friday, February 13, 2015

Last Updated: Friday, October 14, 2016

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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