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

Don’t wait until too late now

To flee hell’s mob with knives

Today; your knees to Christ should bow

Ere the reaper, arrives


Who’ll cut man’s throat, who’ll take one’s head

Torture one’s very soul

Where false religion these have bred 

Failing to find life’s goal        


The faithful bride had long since gone

The church, where truth was found

In the cloud of Jesus, God’s Son

Rising to higher ground


They never saw this escapade

The one Christ prophesied

This monstrous, devilish parade

Satan personified


Through deceit, he will assemble

A mob with blinded eyes

No army will these resemble

Till he drops his false disguise


Like lions, worldwide, with force, they’ll prowl

A beast will then appear

Like rabid dogs, they’ll rage and howl

To gain the earth through fear


With rockets, ships, warplanes with tanks

To dominate, cruel with might

From skulking captives, he’ll reap much thanks

That failed to see the light


Make no mistake while time draws nigh

These words in love are true

Before you think to live or die

Let God’s grace, rapture you.....

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Submitted: Wednesday, October 31, 2018

Last Updated: Thursday, November 1, 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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