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

 

Praise Worthy

 

What price for health would man afford?

Which length for wealth we’d go?

What glory do we give The Lord?

For Heaven’s gratis flow

 

Is not creation in God’s hand?

Is not through Christ we live?

Should faith not rise from every land?

For all He died to give

 

Give thanks for all our eyes can see

For hearts beating through love

For suffering upon The Tree

For man to rise above

 

Give praise to God for hearing ears

Each nose with sense of smell

Faith in Christ’ removing fears

Of death and endless hell

 

Thank God for grace for priceless health

For rain consuming drought

While countless live with no such wealth

Will die; plagued still with doubt

 

Thank God for drink, for food to eat

His gifts to cry and smile

For arms, for legs, fingers, and feet

To walk the extra mile

 

To love, to help, reveal His Word

To show the world He cares

To others lost who haven’t heard

What Heaven’s will declares

 

Give thanks to God for all He’s done

For all He’s yet to do

For Jesus Christ His Lamb and Son

For endless life anew..... 

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Submitted: Wednesday, February 10, 2016

Last Updated: Wednesday, February 10, 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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