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When Lamps Are Lit.....
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By Michael P. Johnson
Other Poems by Michael P. Johnson


Inside of me shines perfect Light

The Holy Ghost is there

My once dark soul God dressed in white

Eternal life to share

 

From filth and passed I’m cleansed and free

Heaven bound for sure

Hell’s gaping jaws don’t bother me

Endless flames to endure

 

Made righteous through The living One

Through Jesus’ blood divine

The Lamb of God my Father’s Son

Who’s selfless love is mine

 

Truth is wonderful grace unique

Love has infinite more

Powerful flowing in one so meek

That knocked upon my door

 

Only a silent prayer was said

A thought deep from within

Caused me to quit the walking dead

Blind to the fate of sin

 

With eyes open, my soul agrees

With what my heart implores

Repenting from my past’s disease

I’ll enter Heaven’s doors

 

To Christ alone, I’ve pledged my hand

Mine is my Father’s will

Heading towards The Promised Land

God’s Promise to fulfil

 

I know I’m right, my God is true

Blessed is my soul complete

I pray these facts may help you too

Join Christ Jesus’ elite…..


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Submitted: Thursday, October 4, 2018

Last Updated: Thursday, October 4, 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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