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

My Desire


Cities crumble great kingdoms fall

All flesh is doomed to die

But those heeding salvation’s call

Will live through Christ on high


A worldly clown I’ll act no more

Nor run with Satan’s fools

I’m heading for my Father’s door

Abiding by His rules


I’ve wished to be among them Lord

I’ve longed with Christ to live

Faithful I’ll flee Your vengeful sword

Through Him You chose to give


My heart belongs to Christ Your Son

My hope is in His Name

My trust is in the battle won

Through Christ enrobed in flame


I wish this world was free as I

I wish her eyes could see

Her children Lord would never die

But live the same as me


Salvation’s comes but through Your grace

Through Christ’s untarnished blood

And only those will see Your face

Who’ve lived The Way they should


Afford to me a giving heart

A tongue for truth alone

Your Promised One please Lord impart

As guide to Heaven’s throne


So close the gates and open doors

Cleanse now this child by fire

Till all I am is truly Yours

For You are my desire.....

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Submitted: Thursday, January 21, 2016

Last Updated: Thursday, January 21, 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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