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May We Come in? Mt.25:35
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By Michael P. Johnson
Other Poems by Michael P. Johnson


May We Cone in? Mt. 25:35
ďForgive me please this time of night
My friendís in so much pain
Across the moor we saw your light
Despite this freezing rain

I found him lying cold and still
Close to death I fear
And so to do the Fatherís will
I sought your help in hereĒ

ďCome in my friend and close the door
Come in and take a seat
Your friend looks frozen to the core
Draw closer to the heat

Iím sure you canít go on tonight
Your friend must go to bed
Itís good you saw my bedroom light
Or both of youíd be dead

To God right now we need to pray
I live here quite alone
The doctor lives too far away
And I donít have a phone

Have faith and trust God understands
He sees and knows your pain
Iím sure Heíll stretch His healing hands
To make you well againĒ

ďYouíre now awake, I find it weird
Something I canít ignore
The man who brought you disappeared!
Straight through a bolted door

You say you never knew his name
Yet please donít think it odd
I now believe that He who came
Was Christ The Son Of God.Ē.....


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Submitted: Saturday, July 23, 2011

Last Updated: Saturday, July 23, 2011

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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