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

 

Mother

 

I bless each smile upon your face

Your blessed voice of love

The Way you walk with charm and grace

So gentle as a dove

 

You’ve blessed my life and made it sweet

With warmth and loving care

Revealing at our Saviour’s feet

That God has much to share

 

Such happiness through you I’ve found

With hands entwined as one

When just we two with joyful sound

Give praise to Christ God’s Son

 

The lessons learnt upon your knees

The fragrance of your hair

The sweet aroma bringing ease

Knowing you’re always there

 

I feel the love so crystal clear

Your tenderness of hand

I bless each time you take my fear

And cause to understand

 

I bless each night and every dawn

Our Saviour seeks to give

I bless the day this child was born

And how you teach to live

 

You do it well you do it good

The Truth’s quite plain to see

I’m living life The Way I should

With He who sets us free

 

Now all grown up I’ve children too

Within our hearts there’s peace

Through Jesus’ grace and birth anew

Life’s joy will never cease.....

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Submitted: Wednesday, July 15, 2015

Last Updated: Wednesday, July 15, 2015

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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