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Blessed Are They.....
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By Michael P. Johnson
Other Poems by Michael P. Johnson

        Blessed Are They.....

How sweet the love of He who lives

Who rose yet once was dead

How blessed are those The Father gives

His grace & living Bread


How blessed are those who’s eyes can see

Those hands and feet with blood

Who hear The Truth that sets them free

To live the life they should


Blessed are those who heed The Call

Who see God’s Son as King!

Who cause their sinful self to fall

The Saviour praise to sing


Blessed are those who Christ obey

Who trust their Lord’s command

Who seek to serve Him night and day

Just as our Father planned


Blessed are feet that bring the news

To those still lost and blind

Who share with love God’s righteous views

To change the wayward mind


Blessed is the woman man or child

Aiding the sheep astray

Who lead them to be reconciled

And walk Salvation’s Way


Blessed is the child who’s faith is sure

Who’s trust is not in crime

Who’s heart and soul through Christ are pure

Who’ll stand the test of time


Who’ll stand when all around them fall

Though fires of hell may burn

They’ll stand until the final call

At Jesus Christ’s return..... 

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Submitted: Wednesday, August 21, 2013

Last Updated: Tuesday, November 22, 2016

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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