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Come On Home.....
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By Michael P. Johnson
Other Poems by Michael P. Johnson

Though wealth opens its luring arms

Though lust troubles the mind

Though Satan tempts, with diverse charms

No soul is born stock blind

 

The spirit of man knows when wrong

The bearer walks life’s road

Singing the devil’s wayward song

Beneath their selfish load

 

From fleeting shadows, in the dark

Where devils, have enticed

Seek the safety, of true life’s ark

Within the hand of Christ

 

Unlike Satan, with partial scope

Devils here or there

Omnipotent! God, will always cope

Whose arms reach everywhere

 

Nothing’s too fine, small, great or grand

Too heavy, nor too wide

When Jesus stretches salvation’s hand

Everything; fits inside

 

Nothing’s too hard, for Christ to do

Nothing wearies His love

So people like me, someone like you

May find a place above

 

We only need to make a call

That love may rich abide

When humbly on our knees we fall

Life’s grace is at our side

 

These words are real, God’s promise true

Christ’s love is unsurpassed

He’s waiting now to hear from you

To bring us home at last…..

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Submitted: Tuesday, September 11, 2018

Last Updated: Wednesday, September 12, 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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