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Please Take My Hand.....
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By Michael P. Johnson
Other Poems by Michael P. Johnson


Come take my hand Lord raise me up

From where I’ve fallen slain

Allow me drink, salvation’s cup

Till cleansed and born-again

 

If life be short or be long

Serving within the vine

Yet Heaven will sound my victory song

When true life’s crown is mine

 

My heart is yours, as is my soul

My faith is in your Son

His precious blood has made me whole

Now condemnation’s gone

 

I’m glad to live, no more to die

To walk as you desire

Where no eagle can ever fly

Before love’s throne of fire

 

Your call is already out there

Long has your voice been heard

Summoning sinners everywhere

To love and heed Your word

 

Obedience deep and true we need

A heart of love and grace

The truth, daily on which to feed

One day to see your face

 

Let grace’s voice now rise and soar

Salvation’s trumpet sound

More servants Lord send forth to pour

Life in yet barren ground

 

Let Heaven’s blessings fall as dew

Truth; find each willing heart

Till more eyes see to worship you

And from death’s path depart…..


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Submitted: Monday, October 8, 2018

Last Updated: Tuesday, October 9, 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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