The Good Samaritan
How kind the good Samaritan
To him who fell among the thieves!
Thus Jesus pities fallen man,
And heals the wounds the soul receives.
O! I remember well the day,
When sorely wounded, nearly slain;
Like that poor man I bleeding lay,
And groaned for help, but groaned in vain.
Men saw me in this helpless case,
And passed without compassion by;
Each neighbor turned away his face,
Unmoved by my mournful cry.
But he whose name had been my scorn,
As Jews Samaritans despise
Came, when he saw me thus forlorn,
With love and pity in his eyes.
Gently he raised me from the ground,
Pressed me to lean upon his arm;
And into every gaping wound
He poured his own all-healing balm.
Unto his church my steps he led,
The house prepared for sinners lost;
Gave charge I should be clothed and fed;
And took upon him all the cost.
Thus saved from death, from want secured,
I wait till he again shall come,
When I shall be completely cured
And take me to his heav'nly home.
There through eternal boundless days,
When nature's wheel no longer rolls,
How shall I love, adore, and praise,
This good Samaritan to souls!
poem by John Newton
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Related quotes
Good Samaritan
The sun shone through the window as I lay down on your carpet
Staring at the speakers - pretending to be tortured
And I never moved a muscle
No, I never moved a muscle
The sunlight turned to shadows, and the minutes turned to hours
Somebody turned the lights on, there was conversation, laughter
And you know just what I'm after - you know just what I'm after
You will look at me, and your curiosity is gonna get the better of you, will get the better of you
Standing next to me now - she's in the air I breathe
She says, "I'm marrying a rich man but he still thinks I'm a virgin
So I need a little action, I need a little fun
I need a good Samaritan, good Samaritan, good Samaritan, good Samaritan"
We raged around our cages until all the doors lay open
Then we fell upon each other in the fury and the frenzy
And we fought like Gods of Thunder - and we played like fives 'n under
And the only screams that mattered turn to whispers in my ear
You're my good Samaritan, you're my good Samaritan, you're my good Samaritan, you're my good Samaritan
Walking down the street - they make such a lovely couple
And she freezes when she sees me - but she don't have to worry
Cos I needed something deeper - I needed something longer
She said, "People who are weaker, need people who are stronger"
And I don't know what possessed you, was I just a one night stand
And not your good Samaritan, good Samaritan, good Samaritan, good Samaritan.
song performed by by Ian Hunter
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The good Samaritan
The Good Samaritan
Suddenly there occurs an incident,
‘Tis a harrowing gory road accident,
The man affected, is on the mid-road, bed,
Lying helpless and bleeding from his head.
His mo-bike is smashed from the ride,
And his belongings all strewn aside.
The passers-by for a view encircle him,
Curious at the happening so grim.
Many a vehicle did zoom past,
None did halt for they hadn't any heart.
A renowned, reputed and lauded man,
Too passed by in his popular van.
People around rushed to him for help,
But he turned aside and gave a yelp.
There came forward a person, guileless,
And spotted the man lying forlorn and helpless.
He instantly swung into operation,
Gathered all the strewn things with precaution;
Dialled the ambulance for immediate action,
And proceeded to phone the victims' relation.
He accompanied the victim to the hospital,
Paid necessary amount and secured attention, vital.
When the victims ‘ relations arrived, in fact,
He handed over all the belongings in tact.
The doctors were happy with their medical cover,
As the patient was brought within the golden hour.
Soon the victim came back to life as a re-birth,
And every one heaved a heavy sigh of mirth.
As all turned to profusely thank the unknown man,
And to make good the fees which from his pocket ran,
The good Samaritan was nowhere to be seen around;
He acted just as per his goodness and conscience sound!
poem by Chandra Thiagarajan
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Jesus
WHERE is poor Jesus gone?
He sits with Dives now,
And his dogs flesh their teeth
On Lazarus below.
Where is poor Jesus gone?
He is with Magdalen.
He doles her piece by piece,
Her pittance of shame!
Where is poor Jesus gone?
The good Samaritan,
What does he there alone?
He stabs the wounded man!
Where is poor Jesus gone,
The lamb they sacrificed? —
They've made God of his carrion
And labelled it 'Christ!'
poem by Francis William Lauderdale Adams
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Now That He’s Risen
Now that Christ has risen above, we should reflect upon His Love,
Love displayed for you and me, by The Savior and Lord of eternity.
And with the price completely paid, we will one day too, be raised,
Raised to be just like Jesus Christ, on the day we enter eternal life.
Now that He’s back on His Throne, He’s made us an eternal home.
A dwelling place where we can be, together with Christ for Eternity.
All things for us will be made new, and this with Eternity in full view.
Death and darkness will be no more, in the light of Christ our Lord.
Never concerned with death again, if you know The Lord my friend,
But looking forward to Eternal Life, secured for all by Jesus Christ.
Even if on this earth we should die, we’ll be transported to the sky.
And this with a new body fitted for, eternity so we will die no more.
And for all those who haven’t died, we will be raptured to His side,
Changed in the twinkling of an eye, to meet the Lord up in the sky.
We will be escorted by Jesus Christ, right into His Eternal Paradise,
The place prepared for all those, who believe in The One who rose.
Jesus rose to secure the victory, over death and sin for you and me.
It was Love which moved The Lord, to die so we could be restored,
Reconciled to The Father above, through The Son’s matchless Love.
A Love we’ll reflect on forevermore, when home above with our Lord.
(Copyright ©04/2006)
Sonnet: The Pure-drest Souls, Go To Heaven
What use is an Angelic face within
A heart of self-conceit, revenge and scorn?
What use is Saint-like man with soul of sin,
Who harbors long in mind for he’s forlorn?
Let face and eyes reflect the heart of man;
With time, the mask remains, by habit glued;
Allow the mind to run amok, we can?
Let soul with virtues, good deeds be imbued.
For Heav'n receives souls that are not defiled;
In camouflage, none can get past the gate;
Beware,0 man, like rubbish, sins get piled;
The more they stay, bad habits can't abate.
Relentless sinners can't reach God's Abode;
As Heaven has its own soul's strict dress-code.
poem by John Celes
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The Good Samaritan
He comes from out the ages dim—
The good Samaritan;
I somehow never pictured him
A fat and jolly man;
But one who’d little joy to glean,
And little coin to give—
A sad-faced man, and lank and lean,
Who found it hard to live.
His eyes were haggard in the drought,
His hair was iron-grey—
His dusty gown was patched, no doubt,
Where we patch pants to-day.
His faded turban, too, was torn—
But darned and folded neat,
And leagues of desert sand had worn
The sandals on his feet.
He’s been a fool, perhaps, and would
Have prospered had he tried,
But he was one who never could
Pass by the other side.
An honest man whom men called soft,
While laughing in their sleeves—
No doubt in business ways he oft
Had fallen amongst thieves.
And, I suppose, by track and tent,
And other ancient ways,
He drank, and fought, and loved, and went
The pace in his young days.
And he had known the bitter year
When love and friendship fail—
I wouldn’t be surprised to hear
That he had been in jail.
A silent man, whose passions slept,
Who had no friends or foes—
A quiet man, who always kept
His hopes and sorrows close.
A man who very seldom smiled,
And one who could not weep
Be it for death of wife or child
Or sorrow still more deep.
But sometimes when a man would rave
Of wrong, as sinners do,
He’d say to cheer and make him brave
‘I’ve had my troubles too.’
(They might be twittered by the birds,
And breathed high Heaven through,
There’s beauty in those world-old words:
‘I’ve had my sorrows too.’)
And if he was a married man,
As many are that roam,
I guess that good Samaritan
Was rather glum at home,
Impatient when a child would fret,
And strict at times and grim—
A man whose kinsmen never yet
Appreciated him.
Howbeit—in a study brown—
He had for all we know,
His own thoughts as he journeyed down
The road to Jericho,
And pondered, as we puzzle yet,
On tragedies of life—
And maybe he was deep in debt
And parted from his wife.
(And so ‘by chance there came that way,’
It reads not like romance—
The truest friends on earth to-day,
They mostly come by chance.)
He saw a stranger left by thieves
Sore hurt and like to die—
He also saw (my heart believes)
The others pass him by.
(Perhaps that good Samaritan
Knew Levite well, and priest)
He lifted up the wounded man
And sat him on his beast,
And took him on towards the inn—
All Christ-like unawares—
Still pondering, perhaps, on sin
And virtue—and his cares.
He bore him in and fixed him right
(Helped by the local drunk),
And wined and oiled him well all night,
And thought beside his bunk.
And on the morrow ere he went
He left a quid and spoke
Unto the host in terms which meant—
‘Look after that poor bloke.’
He must have known them at the inn,
They must have known him too—
Perhaps on that same track he’d seen
Some other sick mate through;
For ‘Whatsoe’er thou spendest more’
(The parable is plain)
‘I will repay,’ he told the host,
‘When I return again.’
He seemed to be a good sort, too,
The boss of that old pub—
(As even now there are a few
At shanties in the scru .
The good Samaritan jogged on
Through Canaan’s dust and heat,
And pondered over various schemes
And ways to make ends meet.
He was no Christian, understand,
For Christ had not been born—
He journeyed later through the land
To hold the priests to scorn;
And tell the world of ‘certain men’
Like that Samaritan,
And preach the simple creed again—
Man’s duty! Man to man!
‘Once on a time there lived a man,’
But he has lived alway,
And that gaunt, good Samaritan
Is with us here to-day;
He passes through the city streets
Unnoticed and unknown,
He helps the sinner that he meets—
His sorrows are his own.
He shares his tucker on the track
When things are at their worst
(And often shouts in bars outback
For souls that are athirst).
To-day I see him staggering down
The blazing water-course,
And making for the distant town
With a sick man on his horse.
He’ll live while nations find their graves
And mortals suffer pain—
When colour rules and whites are slaves
And savages again.
And, after all is past and done,
He’ll rise up, the Last Man,
From tending to the last but one—
The good Samaritan.
poem by Henry Lawson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What Do Good Works Do?
What will a good life do for you, when your earthly life is through?
All the good you proudly say, you’ve done for men along the way.
Good deeds by men can be good; however it must be understood,
That our works won’t take the place, of The Lord’s amazing Grace.
Good works friend play no part, of God’s true conversion of a heart.
Your good works may be in vain, if you do not embrace The Name,
The only name in Heaven raised, by which all men must be saved.
Will all your good works of the past, well into eternity forever last?
Or will they be buried along side, your earthly body that also died?
Are you ignoring God’s Love, working your way to Heaven above?
Forgetting what God has done, by sending His only begotten Son.
We’re not saved by good deeds, but by God’s work upon Calvary,
His finished work on the cross, through Jesus saves all those lost.
For it is His Grace that saves us, when in Christ we place our trust.
Was the good work in your life, done for the glory of Jesus Christ?
Good works won’t move the Lord, if Christ His Only Son is ignored.
Do your works match the price, paid on the cross by Jesus Christ?
When you accept Jesus Christ, God’s works will flow from your life,
Works prepared for all who believe, that will continue on in eternity.
When your works are of The Lord, you will inherit an eternal reward,
Don’t you want to see your works, turned by God into eternal perks?
(Copyright ©06/2006)
How Sweet The Name Of Jesus Sounds
How sweet the name of Jesus sounds
In a believer's ear?
It soothes his sorrows, heals his wounds,
And drives away his fear.
It makes the wounded spirit whole,
And calms the troubled breast;
'Tis Manna to the hungry soul,
And to the weary, rest.
Dear name! The rock on which I build,
My Shield and Hiding-place;
My never-failing Treas'ry filled
With boundless stores of grace.
By thee my prayers acceptance gain
Although with sin defiled,
Satan accuses me in vain,
And I am owned a child.
Jesus, my Shepherd, Husband, Friend,
My Prophet, Priest, and King;
My Lord, my Life, my Way, my End,
Accept the praise I bring.
Weak is the effort of my heart,
And cold my warmest thought;
But when I see Thee as Thou art,
I'll praise Thee as I ought.
Till then I would Thy love proclaim
With every fleeting breath;
And may the music of Thy name
Refresh my soul in death.
poem by John Newton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Friend That Sticketh Closer Than A Brother
One there is, above all others,
Well deserves the name of friend;
His is love beyond a brother's,
Costly, free, and knows no end:
They who once his kindness prove,
Find it everlasting love!
Which of all our friends to save us,
Could or would have shed their blood?
But our Jesus died to have us
Reconciled, in him to God:
This was boundless love indeed!
Jesus is a friend in need.
Men, when raised to lofty stations,
Often know their friends no more;
Slight and scorn their poor relations
Though they valued them before.
But our Saviour always owns
Those whom he redeemed with groans.
When he lived on earth abased,
Friend of sinners was his name;
Now, above all glory raised,
He rejoices in the same:
Still he calls them brethren, friends,
And to all their wants attends.
Could we bear from one another,
What he daily bears from us?
Yet this glorious Friend and Brother,
Loves us though we treat him thus:
Though for good we render ill,
He accounts us brethren still.
O for grace our hearts to soften!
Teach us, Lord, at length to love;
We, alas! forget too often,
What a Friend we have above:
But when home our souls are brought,
We will love thee as we ought.
poem by John Newton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Healing Scriptures
There are many healing scriptures
The Holy Bible shares...
When we let God's wisdom teach us,
There's power in our prayers!
If not, then Jesus would've said,
We needn't pray at all,
Yet for this cause, Lord Jesus bled
And in His Name, we call...
Why leave it till we're desperate
When we can ask God now,
When there's no more need to bear it,
Any longer anyhow?
Yes, rich or poor, we can be healed,
Regardless of our wealth...
Let's pray God's love will be revealed
When we're restored to health!
God's miracles have not run out...
His love can never end...
As if to stop each stumbling doubt,
He sent Christ as our friend...
Lord Jesus went to Calvary...
God raised Him from the dead!
God proved through Him, we've been set free,
To live new lives instead...
So pray believing, in His Name,
Thanksgiving in your soul...
When healing comes, no more the same,
As Jesus takes control...
Then testify, proclaim His worth,
Praise God for what He's done!
Such that God's glory fills the Earth
With Good News through His Son...
(August 2011)
poem by Denis Martindale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Taste And See
You, friend, would be hard-pressed, to find a day you aren’t blessed,
When you know the Lord above, Who fills our heart with joy and love,
Love that prompts you all your days, to lift up to our God real praise,
Praise of thanks lifted to the One, Who sent to men His Beloved Son.
You’d be hard-pressed too friend, to not find God around each bend,
Traveling down all paths of this life, in good times and those of strife.
Wherever you go, God will be there, when no one else, seems to care,
Even with your trials far behind, God is there providing peace of mind.
Friend, it’s very hard to reason why, The Lord above, one would deny,
When it was God, who loved us first, as we were sinners, at our worst,
And yet, He died for you and me, to grant sinners a new life, eternally,
While all you must do is to believe, and Eternal Life, you shall receive.
It was The Lord, who paid the price, when His Son became a sacrifice,
When we as sinners, were at enmity, with The Lord God of all Eternity,
The God above and Eternal Creator, became our Lord and our Savior,
When He displayed amazing Love, redeeming us with His shed Blood.
Today if you thirst and hunger friend, The Lamb of God I recommend,
Who died for the sin of every man, as core of God’s redemptive plan,
So taste and see, that God is good, and join His Eternal Brotherhood,
Looking forward to Eternal Life, with our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.
(Copyright ©09/2009)
God’s Trophies
I am but one trophy of God’s Grace, to be displayed in every place,
Each and every place, which I go, for His Matchless Grace to show.
God’s trophy for all eyes to see, what God’s Grace has done in me,
God’s trophy is my changed life, of what He’s done in Jesus Christ.
This world is God’s trophy case, filled with those changed by Grace,
Changed to live their lives for Him, the Savior, who died for their sin.
Other fallen sinners just like us, who in Christ have placed their trust,
Trusting in The Lord above, He saved and changed us by His blood.
We are set in place by God to shine, with a Love that’s purely divine,
With a glow that’s not from us, but from our Savior’s Righteousness.
And when we let our Shepherd lead, God brings others to their need,
Their own need of the Savior’s Light, to deliver them out of the night.
So that they shall be a trophy too, of God’s Grace, like me and you,
Another sinner that has a New Life, through our Savior, Jesus Christ.
One more, saved to be a vessel for, the Righteousness of The Lord,
With work by God prepared for us, who come to know Christ Jesus.
We were saved to one day rise, to our eternal home above the skies,
Saved by Grace on this earthly sod, to be new trophies for our God,
Together we can shine His Light, in a world where wrong seems right,
And then will see our Savior’s face, when in God’s eternal showcase.
(Copyright ©05/2008)
Hymn XXX: Where Shall My Wondering Soul Begin?
Where shall my wondering soul begin?
How shall I all to heaven aspire?
A slave redeemed from death and sin,
A brand plucked from eternal fire,
How shall I equal triumphs raise,
Or sing my great Deliverer's praise?
O how shall I the goodness tell,
Father, which thou to me hast showed?
That I, a child of wrath and hell,
I should be called a child of God,
Should know, should feel my sins forgiven,
Blest with this antepast of heaven!
And shall I slight my Father's love?
Or basely fear his gifts to own?
Unmindful of his favours prove?
Shall I, the hallowed cross to shun,
Refuse his righteousness to impart,
By hiding it within my heart?
No! though the ancient dragon rage,
And call forth all his host to war,
Though earth's self-righteous sons engage
Them and their god alike I dare;
Jesus, the sinner's friend, proclaim;
Jesus, to sinners still the same.
Outcasts of men, to you I call,
Harlots, and publicans, and thieves!
He spreads his arms to embrace you all;
Sinners alone his grace receives;
No need of him the righteous have;
He came the lost to seek and save.
Come, O my guilty brethren, come,
Groaning beneath your load of sin,
His bleeding heart shall make you room,
His open side shall take you in;
He calls you now, invites you home;
Come, O my guilty brethren, come!
For you the purple current flowed
In pardons from his wounded side,
Languished for you the eternal God,
For you the Prince of glory died:
Believe, and all your sin's forgiven;
Only believe, and yours is heaven!
poem by John Wesley
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Hymn XXX: Where Shall My Wondering Soul Begin?
Where shall my wondering soul begin?
How shall I all to heaven aspire?
A slave redeemed from death and sin,
A brand plucked from eternal fire,
How shall I equal triumphs raise,
Or sing my great Deliverer's praise?
O how shall I the goodness tell,
Father, which thou to me hast showed?
That I, a child of wrath and hell,
I should be called a child of God,
Should know, should feel my sins forgiven,
Blest with this antepast of heaven!
And shall I slight my Father's love?
Or basely fear his gifts to own?
Unmindful of his favours prove?
Shall I, the hallowed cross to shun,
Refuse his righteousness to impart,
By hiding it within my heart?
No! though the ancient dragon rage,
And call forth all his host to war,
Though earth's self-righteous sons engage
Them and their god alike I dare;
Jesus, the sinner's friend, proclaim;
Jesus, to sinners still the same.
Outcasts of men, to you I call,
Harlots, and publicans, and thieves!
He spreads his arms to embrace you all;
Sinners alone his grace receives;
No need of him the righteous have;
He came the lost to seek and save.
Come, O my guilty brethren, come,
Groaning beneath your load of sin,
His bleeding heart shall make you room,
His open side shall take you in;
He calls you now, invites you home;
Come, O my guilty brethren, come!
For you the purple current flowed
In pardons from his wounded side,
Languished for you the eternal God,
For you the Prince of glory died:
Believe, and all your sin's forgiven;
Only believe, and yours is heaven!
poem by Charles Wesley
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Hymn 22 part 1
Christ the eternal life.
Rom. 9:5.
Jesus, our Savior and our God,
Arrayed in majesty and blood,
Thou art our life; our souls in thee
Possess a full felicity.
All our immortal hopes are laid
In thee, our surety and our head;
Thy cross, thy cradle, and thy throne,
Are big with glories yet unknown.
Let atheists scoff, and Jews blaspheme
Th' eternal life and Jesus' name;
A word of thy almighty breath
Dooms the rebellious world to death.
But let my soul for ever lie
Beneath the blessings of thine eye;
'Tis heav'n on earth, 'tis heav'n above,
To see thy face and taste thy love.
poem by Isaac Watts
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Hymn 153
The distemper, folly, and madness of sin
Sin, like a venomous disease,
Infects our vital blood;
The only balm is sovereign grace,
And the physician, God.
Our beauty and our strength are fled,
And we draw near to death;
But Christ the Lord recalls the dead
With his almighty breath.
Madness by nature reigns within,
The passions burn and rage,
Till God's own Son, with skill divine,
The inward fire assuage.
[We lick the dust, we grasp the wind,
And solid good despise;
Such is the folly of the mind,
Till Jesus makes us wise.
We give our souls the wounds they feel,
We drink the pois'nous gall,
And rush with fury down to hell;
But Heav'n prevents the fall.]
[The man possessed among the tombs
Cuts his own flesh, and cries;
He foams and raves, till Jesus comes,
And the foul spirit flies.]
poem by Isaac Watts
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Each A Teacher
From Adam to the latest born upon this sinful Earth,
Behold each soul, bereft, forlorn, of such diminished worth...
For Adam, with his woman Eve, defied the Lord of all
And with the Devil to deceive, God's angels saw them fall...
No longer wise in their own eyes, both man and woman knew,
Their nakedness to realise and with it, guilt that grew...
No longer quite as innocent, no longer fancy free,
They wondered what their Father meant, was death a certainty! ?
When God returned, the failures fled! Excuses left their lips!
A bloody sacrifice lay dead and from it blood still drips...
Life for a life, soul for a soul... Both man and woman groaned,
As Father maintained self-control the moment blood atoned...
Each a teacher, the Christians preach, salvation to impart,
Damnation's door no more to reach, if Heaven's in your heart...
While demons teach the lost to stray with every dying hour,
Hell waits lost souls on Judgment Day, for them, no saving power!
While you have breath, turn to the Lord, the Teacher who knows best,
The Teacher with His blood outpoured... so sinners could be blessed!
The Teacher who will come again, Jerusalem take note!
Believe Christ now, don't wait till then... Delay's no antidote...
From ages long since past and done, to ages here and now,
The Father has declared His Son, as with a solemn vow...
God promises a pardon to believers far and wide,
Eternal life for me and you in Christ once crucified...
poem by Denis Martindale
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Hymn 1
A new song to the Lamb that was slain.
Rev. 5:6-12
Behold the glories of the Lamb
Amidst his Father's throne;
Prepare new honors for his name,
And songs before unknown.
Let elders worship at his feet,
The church adore around,
With vials full of odors sweet,
And harps of sweeter sound.
Those are the prayers of the saints,
And these the hymns they raise,
Jesus is kind to our Complaints,
He loves to hear our praise.
[Eternal Father, who shall look
Into thy secret will?
Who but the Son shall take that book,
And open every sea]?
He shall fulfil thy great decrees,
The Son deserves it well:
Lo! in his hand the sovereign keys
Of heav'n, and death, and hell!]
Now to the Lamb that once was slain
Be endless blessings paid;
Salvation, glory, joy, remain
For ever on thy head.
Thou hast redeemed our souls with blood,
Hast set the pris'ners free;
Hast made us kings and priests to God,
And we shall reign with thee.
The worlds of nature and of grace
Are put beneath thy power;
Then shorten these delaying days,
And bring the promised hour.
poem by Isaac Watts
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Love of Jesus
Love that can never change;
Love, for all men, supreme;
Love unsurpassable;
Love divine, paramount.
Love redeeming all souls;
Love forgiving all sins;
Love that can’t forsake men;
Love that put Him on cross.
Love most insatiable;
Love flowing from His heart;
Love spurting fountain-like;
Love boundless, incessant.
Love proclaiming God’s love;
Love humane yet divine;
Love eternal and free;
Love seeking sinners’ hearts.
Love unfathomable;
Love bleeding until death;
Love pleading for sinners;
Love born on earth as man!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 5-29-2008
poem by John Celes
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The Day The Devil Lost
The Devil tried his level best
The day that Jesus died,
But even he was so hard pressed,
Temptations every side...
The multitude had swayed like corn
From love to fear then hate,
To see Lord Jesus so forlorn,
As if no longer great...
The evidence against Him stood,
Yet witnesses were mixed,
But finally they did no good,
As if their words were fixed...
When Pilate met the beaten Lord
He saw no victory,
Nor was the crowd as overawed...
Barabbas was set free...
The Devil then had no way out
Unless Christ wavered now,
Yet Jesus walked beyond their doubt,
His crown upon His brow...
The Cross was now His sacrifice,
Would Jesus die or not?
Would Jesus falter and think twice
Or just submit to God?
The hours left yet Jesus stayed,
No angels to appear,
No rescue bid as Christ obeyed
Till death was oh so near...
His Blood fell down upon the Earth
As Jesus paid sins' cost,
The day the Saviour proved His worth...
The day the Devil lost...
Denis Martindale, copyright, August 2012.
We can hear the word of the Lord on
Revelation TV on UK Sky Digital 581
as well as the WATCH NOW link on
the revelationtv-dot-com website...
poem by Denis Martindale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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