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But 7 Days a Week
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By Michael P. Johnson
Other Poems by Michael P. Johnson

�

� � �But 7 Days a Week

We must escape our septic jail

Through faith through self-denial

Resolve God�s righteous hill to scale

And wipe off Satan�s smile

�

Shadows will flee the shameful mind

Where sin will flex it�s might

Hell�s stressful coils will grace unwind

Through Jesus� guiding Light

�

We dare not lax a moment more

Relenting where there�s sin

Our change must end the devil�s score

If as a bride we�ll win!

�

We need our wayward lives to cease

Tear down the foe�s disguise

From selfishness truly decrease

And burn our robes of lies

�

Repent, while Christ is still in sight

Remove each thorn of shame

Destroy the strongholds of the night

Confess in Jesus� name

�

In truth, the devil�s chains will fall

The Truth will wash us clean

As in God�s strength we walk so tall

Let righteousness be seen

�

Demonic wine though yet may flow

Their darts fly night and day

Consulting Jesus where to go

Heaven will guide The Way

�

Salvation�s not just Sunday morn

Best now we understand

It�s through The Truth, through Christ; reborn

We�ll dwell The Promised Land�..

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Submitted: Friday, December 21, 2012

Last Updated: Monday, July 30, 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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