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


It seems autumn is on its way

Life’s cycles rolling on

Blessed will I be on Judgement day

With Jesus Christ, God’s Son

 

Jesus, Jesus, how blessed was I

When at Your feet, I bowed

Learning to, live never, to die

As bride within your cloud

 

Strange! It may sound to one’s ear

Foolish! Without research

Irrational! It would appear

Never! Learning in church

 

Autumn’s for me, what about you

Times important you see

So vital; is what we pursue

What will tomorrow be?

 

Jesus knows you, do you know Him?

Do you know, Life’s in His hand?

Young, you may be when eyes grow dim

What! My friend, will be planned?

 

Take not what wisdom’s explaining

Perfect LOVE! Makes clear

While each day, week, month, year’s draining

Heaven and Hell draws near

 

Make no mistake, God loves you my friend

Knows all things said and done

Will you arise, will you descend?

What will be lost or won?

 

Think Heaven or Hell forever

Screaming! Or singing Love’s Song

Be not a chump, be shrewd, be clever

Where will you soon belong.....?  


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Submitted: Sunday, September 24, 2017

Last Updated: Wednesday, September 27, 2017

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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