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A Doctor's Mistake
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By Michael P. Johnson
Other Poems by Michael P. Johnson


A Doctor's Mistake

While towns flourish teeming with life

With all colours and creeds

In one of them lived with his wife

A doctor with certain needs

 

Life and practice were more than good

He’d friends on every side 

Yet took to drugs so oft he could

That soon would turn the tide

 

One day a sad mistake was made

A fault he tried to hide

With pills a man in bed was laid

Who very nearly died

 

His therapy was false of course

The doctor was so high

The dose he gave could kill a horse

A man would surely die

 

For years had prayed the doctor’s wife

Fervently night and day

For God to change her husband’s life

And take the drugs away

 

Her prayers were heard God saw how long

His child suffered in tears

Although her husband’s deeds were wrong

God freed them of their fears

 

The doctor’s heart began to melt

Grateful he knelt there too

“Oh Lord my God what guilt I’ve felt

Since knowing You are true”

 

Salvation came because a wife

Had knelt in fervent prayer

Not only had her husband life

Eternity they’ll share......


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Submitted: Sunday, July 24, 2011

Last Updated: Sunday, July 24, 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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