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A Tale Shared
Viewed Last 24 Hours: 1 time

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


†††††† A tale shared

My life was filth, full foolish doubt

Yet empty deep inside

Until The Truth turned me about

How much this child had cried

Now full of joy, Iíll share my tale

How bound I was within

How Jesus chose to pay my bail

My wayward soul to win

In shame my God to You I came

I knelt before Your throne

You gave with love Your Holy Flame

And claimed me as Your own

It seemed by chance; I heard Your name

Good luck, I joined the few

But You are God! And when You came

The choice was made by You

For Satanís wares Iíd always thirst

I failed lifeís every test

It may have been that I was cursed

But now Iím more than blessed

You taught me how to walk and live

To serve with grace and love

My fellow man, selfless to give

Showing The Way above

The Way challenging selfishness

Of torment, tears and pain

To wear lifeís crown of righteousness

When truly born again

In Spirit, in Truth, Blood-washed clean

Through oil as saints before

Salvation chose to intervene

Opening Heavenís Door.....


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Submitted: Sunday, March 11, 2012

Last Updated: Sunday, March 11, 2012

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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