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The Seventh Day
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By Michael P. Johnson
Other Poems by Michael P. Johnson

 

            The Seventh Day

His Sabbath day The Lord has blessed

Holy; for all to keep

Sharing with Him the time of rest

But not to lie and sleep

 

Yet some still have a barren land

Bodies as lifeless clay

Wandering from The Master’s hand

Failing the Sabbath day

 

They fail God’s house upon the hill

Life’s doors are stiff with rust

No thought to do The Father’s will

But quench their thirst for lust

 

“Keep my Sabbath” is God’s command

“Holy in every way”

A law each child can understand

That still applies today

 

No work is done the seventh day

God’s warning’s not in vain

Who still persist the fool to play

Their land will see no rain

 

Lost rebels kneel in church to pray

Only to leave the same

Gorging drinking on Sabbath day

Then wonder why they came

 

We all must aim God’s face to seek

A time to kneel and pray

Yet not once or twice a week

But once or twice a day!

 

“Religiously keep my day of rest

That I give unto you”

Its God’s command and not request

To Gentile as to Jew..…

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Submitted: Thursday, January 17, 2013

Last Updated: Thursday, January 17, 2013

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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