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How Can Praise End?
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By Michael P. Johnson
Other Poems by Michael P. Johnson


Riding The Crest scaling The Hill

Walking The Righteous Way

How great the joy amazing thrill

Serving Jesus today


The Lord of hosts The Prince of peace

The Lamb who died for love

Who lives who reigns, who’ll never cease

To share treasures above


Blessed are the souls in Jesus’ hand

The chosen faithful few

The child who’ll live who’ll serve as planned

Who’ll drink The Morning Dew


Raising their hopes to God on high

Their eyes with fervent gaze

Their eager hands towards the sky

Expressing heartfelt praise


Thanking their King on Heaven’s throne

For faith for truth for light

For health for wealth for mercies shown

Life’s crown and robe of white


Who can still question when or how?

Blessing as these can be

Where are the wonders here and now

For those with eyes to see


Changes still come, miracles done

Numbers just multiply

Receiving life through Jesus God’s Son

Who can the facts deny?


Marvellous love amazing care

Christ Jesus Lord and friend

Bountiful treasures grace to share

How can our praises end.....?

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Submitted: Wednesday, December 2, 2015

Last Updated: Wednesday, December 2, 2015

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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