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Organ Donors.....
Viewed Last 24 Hours: 2 times

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


Oh that man’s heart would come to see

The facts of death and grave

If organ donors all would be

Many a life we’d save

 

Even one’s self could so be blessed

Profit through this system

When life’s organs donors invest

God would deem to kiss them

 

Do to others what you’d have done

Provide that others live

Would not the promise of God’s Son

Approve the gifts you give

 

Ignorance blights the human race

Selfishness warrants death

Man’s superstition hides the face

Of He who gives life’s breath

 

Would not recipients be satisfied?

Would each not give you thanks?

Would true love not be glorified?

Exalting godly ranks

 

Organ deficiency’s global

In young people and old

Contributors fit and noble

May walk on streets of gold

 

Gross accidents are everywhere

Ailments lend cause to grieve

Let’s now provide in death to share

Fit organs that we leave

 

For death to all one day will rise

Bless God for Christ His Son

Let’s see Love smiling with our eyes

And say “My child well done”.....


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Submitted: Friday, April 27, 2018

Last Updated: Friday, April 27, 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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