Poetry About Jesus And Salvation
cindydwy
"And to wait for his Son from heaven, whom he raised from the dead, even Jesus, which delivered us from the wrath to come" (1 Thessalonisans 1:10)
THE ELEVENTH HOUR
He comes, the Lord of glory comes!
Our eyes, grown dim
From midnight watching of the far
Horizon's rim.
Behold a dawning light!
Breathless, We wait for Him.
The solemn clock of God ticks on,
The moments race.
Still He delays His steps for yet
A little space,
A few more souls, last trophies of
His sovereign grace.
Men's hearts are failing them for fear;
Black storm clouds lower.
Soon those who spurned His love shall know
His wrath and power . . .
Lost soul, flee to the cross before
God strikes His hour!
"Beloved, now are we the sons of God, and it doth not yet appear what we shall be: but we know we shall be like him; For we shall see him as he is"
(1 John 3:2)
I SHALL BE LIKE HIM
A rose, two lips, two eyes, a chin, a brow,
Describes a billion persons living now.
A trillion more who died. Amazing how
The Master Artist who designed each face
Made each one different! In all of space
No two alike, nor did His brush retrace
A single line. And so I like to feel
That this poor face of mine bears His own seal,
And some bright day, as I before Him kneel,
That He will smile at me, while looking down
Into my face, then leaning from His throne,
Will take His brush, and make it like His own!
"Behold, I will do a new thing; now it shall spring forth; shall ye not know it? I will make a way in the wilderness, and rivers in the desert" (Isaiah 43:19)
SPRING
Songs are all resyncopated,
Earth is all redecorated!
Skies are newly painted blue,
Bluebirds freshly touched up too.
Meadows done in tender green
With a certain misty sheen.
Let all sad remembering
Be forgotten -- it is spring!
Show me any heart could ache
In a field were daisies wake;
Who is there could ponder pain
In this slanting April rain,
Or who could sign, "Ah, woe is me"
Beneath a budding apple tree?
Away, speak not to me of sorrows!
In spring God sends such glad tomorrows!
"The heavens declare the glory of God."
BLIND
God made Him an arch of velvet black,
Depth beyond depth of space,
And He launched His white-winged fleets of clouds
To scud as the night winds race.
He hung the moon in a maple tree
Set high upon a hill,
And He studded the sky with silver stars
Whose orbits were His sweet will.
The stars made music for God to hear,
And His face was bathed with their light,
While the crowding angels peeped and peered,
And trembled in their delight.
But far below the sad world sighed,
Though He drenched it with His dew,
And He held it cupped in His tender hand,
For His mercy is ever new:
And He called to earth -- but the ears of man
Were as deaf as deaf could be,
And his eyes, from looking down, had grown
Blind, and he could not see.
So, wearied with fighting and toil and hate,
Man slept the whole night through,
While God's face lighted the sky! But man
Was blind and he never knew.
ON GROWING OLD
Why do we dread to grow old?
Is today so good
That we will not welcome tomorrow?
Why do we dread to grow old?
Are we satisfied with ourselves as we are?
Why do we dread to grow old?
Are our lessons learned?
Are we ready to close the book?
Why do we dread to grow old?
There are always beckoning dreams ahead!
Why do we dread to grow old?
Is our harvest gathered,
Is our treasure house full of gold?
O let us not dread to grow old --
Each year brings us nearer to God!
"Out of Zion, the perfection of beauty, God hath shined" (Psalms 50:2)
BEAUTY WALKS AT NIGHT
Wearied with the sun,
When the day is done
Beauty walks at night
With a rare delight;
Counts time by the far
Throbbing of a star,
Bathes in floods of white
Shimmering moonlight,
Joys in every breeze
Which stirs the silent trees.
Then she doffs her shoes,
Bright with evening dews;
Startled, she has found
She walks on holy ground,
For every moonlit road
Leads her on toward God!
THE HEAVENS DECLARE THE GLORY OF GOD
When the weary day
Folds her robes away,
Then begins God's high
Pageant of the sky.
Banners flaunt, unfold,
Crimson, flame and gold!
Towers of amethyst,
Veiled in opal mist
Where strands of rubies swirl,
Castled crags of pearl,
Rosy lakes which shift,
Change and blend and drift
Far and far away,
Fade to mauve and gray
As the splendor dies
In the silent skies.
Evening bells afar,
Then one silver star.
Content I lay my head
On my quiet bed.
More near, more dear to Him am I
Than any pageantry of sky!
TRAITOR
No roof but the starry sky,
No bed but the earth's brown breast.
A gypsy maid am I.
And the winding road is best.
What need have I for walls
When I can touch the breeze?
Ah, soft the night dew falls
Among the friendly trees!
My only light a star
Agleam in the sky for me,
And ever glows the far
Still beauty of the sea.
No hampering bonds for me,
No house to hold me fast,
I would be every free!
And yet today I passed
A house in a quiet street:
I looked in at the door
And watched two babies sweet
Tumble about the floor.
I've a yearning and vague unrest,
A fear that I am not free,
A trouble pain at my breast --
My heart is betraying me!
"Train up a child in the way he should go: and when he is old, he will not depart from it" (Proverbs 22:6)
CHILD EVANGELISM
Think of your child in his Christian home,
See him in prayer at your knee;
Then think of the child in the Godless home --
What manner of chance has he?
What chance to learn why the dear Lord died,
And why His blood was shed;
Will he only learn salvation's plan
Too late, when he is dead?
"As the twig is bent the tree inclines."
A child is a tender plant,
And a child needs God as a flower needs light,
And a soul can die from want.
"Suffer the children to come unto Me."
Dear Savior, can there be
A greater service, a sweeter task
Than to bring a child to Thee?
IS IT SUCH A LITTLE THING?
It is such a little thing
Only to be kind,
But it may help a burdened soul,
And ease a troubled mind.
It is such a little thing,
We cannot understand
The strangely powerful leverage
Of a helping hand.
It is such a little thing
To speak a tender word --
A very little thing, and yet,
Pleasing to the Lord;
Pleasing to the One who said,
"Inasmuch as ye
Shall do it to the least of these,
Ye do it unto me!"
Poetry by Martha Snell Nicholson - Page 1
Poetry by Martha Snell Nicholson - Page 2
Poetry About Jesus And Salvation by Cindy Wyatt
John 3:16: For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.
Poetry About Jesus And Salvation
cindydwy