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

 

        But now I see

For me; the world had but one rule

Give all it had to give

How could I think The Lord a fool?

And still expect to live?

 

The things I did against the law

The ruthless methods used

Who would have thought I’d find The Door?

So much was God abused!

 

True friends in life I never had

Just people I had known

But retrospect it makes me sad

How much I was alone

 

Till then my life was paved with shame

I did as I saw fit

But Jesus came and called my name

And freed me from the pit

 

He brought with peace, Salvation’s Dove

Blessing beneath His wing

Causing such rich such wondrous love

Life’s song with joy to sing

 

He gave with peace, eternal life

The power at death to smile

He promised with a faithful wife

He’ll walk the extra mile

 

Now what The Lord has done for me

He’ll also do for you

Allow His Lamb to set you free

His will on earth to do

 

His love is mine instead of hate!

I’ve friends like grains of sand

Come turn to Christ before too late

He’ll come to hold your hand…..

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Submitted: Monday, December 24, 2012

Last Updated: Wednesday, December 26, 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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