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In The Hand Of Jesus.....
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By Michael P. Johnson
Other Poems by Michael P. Johnson

Presenting me of Heaven’s share

Beneath that dreadful tree

You hear my pleas, my every prayer

To set your servant free

 

From Satan’s wiles, each devilish ploy,

From worldly clouds of strife

From every tactic, devils employ

Confronted through this life

 

Shield me; guide me, in Your hand

Safe from the devil’s horde

Allow this child to understand

Life’s mysteries abroad

 

Make me real Lord, make me true

My heart Lord, fill with love

By faith make sweet Lord, more like You

By grace to rise above

 

If I should fail my God at times

When troubled in my soul

Forgive my foolish selfish crimes

And make this sinner whole

 

For all temptations to endure

Along life’s winding path

Keep daily strong, humble, pure

Complete and free from wrath

 

For victory in each called for task

To stand the test of time

I know my God has all I ask

Salvation’s mount to clime

 

Yet take my hand, wrap in Your arms

In spirit give true sight

Make me wise to luring charms

Walking toward the light…..

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Submitted: Friday, August 3, 2018

Last Updated: Friday, August 3, 2018

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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