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The Coach Draws Near
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By Michael P. Johnson
Other Poems by Michael P. Johnson

 

The Coach Draws Near

 

Make no mistake play not as fools

Before the pending fall

Trying to sit between two stools

While hearing Heavens’ call

 

There are sheep to feed, seed to sow

On mountain hill and vale

But storms may rise cold winds may blow

Through which so many fail

 

Such times wisdom should wear a crown

Seek out The Father’s face

Pull all our self made idols down

And pray for saving grace

 

The bible tells it crystal clear

To them God’s given sight

The bridal coach will soon appear 

For those en-robed with Light

 

The living One will call His own

Beyond their wildest dream

He’ll change each remnant yet of stone

To holiness supreme

 

Taking us His nail pierced hand

In Jesus’ arms of love

Immediately we’ll understand 

Miracles wait above

 

A moment only in His Flame

A twinkling of an eye

Made perfect in His wondrous name

For endless life on high

 

Casting aside our blood drenched sword

With all the saints before

Hand in hand with Christ The Lord

We’ll enter Heaven’s door..... Michael P. Johnson

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Submitted: Thursday, July 7, 2016

Last Updated: Thursday, July 7, 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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