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




Intensive Care, they call this ward

Not few come here and die

So hear Your servant’s prayer O Lord

I’m sending You on high


My bed is first beside the door

With drip for food and drink

Pumping me full with drugs galore

Giving me grounds to think


You know I’m not afraid of death

Through Christ it’s lost its sting

Yet while I live and still have breath

I pray truth’s song to sing


Thanking you for Your love and grace

For all the things You’ve done

Especially that I’ll see Your face

Through Jesus Christ Your Son


You’re faithful Lord in all You say

Your Word’s more sweet than wine

With Christ I’ll stand on judgement day

Believing life is mine


I’ve served You in this life my Lord

Walking with life’s true King

In faith I trust and may afford

A longer song to sing


It’s not for me, but those I love

Although they know I’m yours

And though they know for me above

You’ll open Heaven’s doors


Yet still my Lord for these I pray

And those who die in pain

Lord thank You for being The Way

My life is not in vain.....

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Submitted: Friday, February 27, 2015

Last Updated: Saturday, July 28, 2018

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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