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


Oil

 

Most treat The Lord with no respect

So few seek time to pray

Many our lamps are in neglect

Though Christ is on His way

 

Now Moses was a righteous man

He loved enough to care

It was The Lord Jehovah’s plan

His servant’s oil to share

 

To help a nation on it’s way

God’s children to their goal

Seventy more received that day

The oil from but one soul

 

Ten virgins served on Zion hill

Their lamps were burning bright

But oil from five began to spill

Whilst walking through the night

 

Their lives were fine, or so they thought

Like Samson once before

He gave no mind that he’d be caught

When oil poured out the door

 

God’s Holy Ghost was in his heart

Helping from time to time

Until one day He had to part

Because of wanton crime

 

Without the oil of God at hand

Without His living Son

Many may try to make a stand

But find it can’t be done

 

In church today we sit and wait

This fact she must repent

When prayers bounce back from Heaven’s gate

One’s oil, has long been spent…..


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Submitted: Friday, November 2, 2012

Last Updated: Friday, November 2, 2012

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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