Christian poetry – penpaletteheart

In a Dark Midnight Garden

In a dark midnight garden,
So many long years ago,
Our dear Saviour, Lord Jesus,
Cried out His prayer of great woe.

On the bank of the river,
At the brim of the cup,
I have stepped in the water,
Must I drink this draught up?

In all You have asked, Father,
I have done to my best.
I have fought mankind's evil;
I have faced every test.

On the bank of the river,
At the brim of the cup,
I have stepped in the water;
Must I drink this draught up?

Unaware of His anguish, 
Despite their Lord's longing plea,
His disciples slept soundly
Beneath the old olive tree.

On the edge of the river,
At the brim of the cup,
I have stepped in the water;
Must I drink this draught up?

Had you been in that garden,
All those many years ago,
Would you have so soundly slept,
As Jesus poured out His soul?

On the bank of the river,
At the brim of the cup,
Jesus stepped in the water;
Jesus drank the draught up.

Some Say

Some Say

Some say I believe myths, Lord,

But I think that’s so unfair

Since they believe that U F O’s

Are flying everywhere.

Some say You are a crutch, Lord,

But You’re just what I need

For I am lame in Spirit

And your help makes me succeed.

Some say its just happenstance

All the miracles I see,

But miracles keep happening

When I ask You faithfully.

Some say that I am blind, Lord,

To the truth that science finds,

But I cannot forget, Lord,

That You made those human minds.

Although I love my friends, Lord,

I know they’ve been misled.

Please open up their hearts, Lord,

To the truth You’ve done and said.

Something About That Man

Jesus carrrying his Cross

Something About That Man

Oh, what’s the hubub in the street?

I hear the sound of marching feet.

I hear the shouts of and angry crowd-

They’re coming near; they’re getting loud.

See the Man with the crown of thorns?

He is the one that King Herod scorns.

They’re driving him up Godgotha’s slope-

A merciless place without hope.

There’s something about that Man’s face

Reminds me of a time or place

Where he and his friends shared their meal

And went about to teach and heal.

They say he now claims to be God

And his miracles were a fraud.

But I saw the lame he made walk,

The blind to see, the mute to talk.

I heard the stories that he taught

And felt the hope that Man brought.

I must protest this awful fate

Brought on because of fear and hate.

Yet, I stand silent on the hill,

Urging my conscience to be still

And when they plant that awful tree,

My voice is stopped; my eyes won’t see.

As I gaze at the darkened sky,

I hear his words, his groaning cry,

“Father, forgive them for my sake,’

And I feel my own heart break.

The Wild World

The Wild World

The world is wild and full of care;
There is danger everywhere,
And yet, when I look above
I see the grandeur of God’s love.

The way through life is full of snares
Of empty pleasures, foolish dares,
But when I smell the blooming spring
I know God’s love is everything.

No manmade lights can compare
To all the twinkling stars up there.
No thrill of speed nor vain award
Can tempt me ever from my Lord.

When many years have dimmed my eyes,
And life no longer holds surprise,
My heart will yearn with keen desire
To sing in God’s celestial choir.

I am the healer of pain-wracked souls
And the fixer of broken parts.
I am the soother of weary minds,
The one comfort for troubled hearts.
My arms are open to welcome all
Of those who are yearning to be
Sheltered from the storms of life,
Enfolded and strengthened by me.

I am the mender of shattered lives,
The breaker of earthly fetters.
I am the finder of long-lost souls,
Forgiver of life-long debtors.
I long to gather my dear ones home
And rejoice with all who will come
For I have prepared a banquet feast
With enough places for everyone.

A Candle Burning

candlelight #3

A Candle Burning
© 2017 Mollie Pearce McKibbon

A candle burning in the dark night
Cannot outshine my Saviour’s light.
The greatest bonfire and its glow
Compared to Jesus, will not show.
The brightest beams from our big sun
Cannot eclipse the Blessed One.
The love light from my Saviour’s eyes
Is kind, and caring, always wise.
He sees my weakness, knows my fears,
Has helped me stand and dried my tears.
And when my task here is complete,
You’ll find me sitting at his feet.

In Heaven – a poem

In Heaven

© 2016 Mollie Pearce McKibbon

view-of-heaven

In Heaven
© 2016 Mollie Pearce McKibbon

There is no anger in heaven;
the only loud shouts you’ll hear
are “hosannas” to Jesus
from all the saints gathered there.
There is no sadness in heaven;
No broken or lonely soul.
God promises to give his comfort
and make everyone whole.
There is no hunger in heaven;
A banquet is prepared for all.
None is forgotten or left out.
Just listen for our Father’s call.
There are no mirrors in heaven;
the only reflection you’ll find
deep in the eyes of our Saviour –
The beauty of God’s holy mind.

Without God – a hymn

Without God

8 7 8 7

Without rain this world’s a desert;

Without sun this world is cold;

Without God this world is barren

And our hearts will turn to stone.

Without hope this world’s desperate;

Without Love this world is cold;

Without God this world is chaos

And our souls will have no home.

Turn your eyes towards the Saviour;

Turn your ears to hear God’s Word;

Use your hands to do His service

And God’s love will overflow.

For in God we find our purpose;

For in Him we find our joy;

And in God our hearts will open

For the truth to set us free.

My Saviour – a winter poem

My Saviour

By Mollie McKibbon

meter= 6 6 6 6 D

Redder than cardinals

Singing up in the pine,

My Saviour’s precious blood

Was sacrificed for mine.

Softer than the new down

On a snowy owl’s breast,

My Saviour’s tender touch

Brings peace, healing and rest.

More fragrant than cedar

In the evergreen wood,

My Saviour’s promises

Are trustworthy and good.

Purer than white snowflakes

Coming down from above,

My Saviour showers me

With his blessings and love.

What Kind of King?

What Kind of King?

What kind of king has a crown of thorns,

A borrowed robe and a court that scorns?

What kind of king has no retinue,

No army of might, no jeweled shoe?

What kind of king is so humble and meek

That he washed the dirt from other folks’ feet?

What kind of king heals the deaf and lame,

The sick and downtrodden with nothing to gain?

What kind of king claims no kingdom on earth,

But promises all a holy re-birth?

What kind of king is nailed to a cross

And loses his clothes when dice are tossed?

What kind of king dies in terrible pain,

Is buried, mourned and rises again?

What kind of king forgives and forgets

Even sins we haven’t committed yet?

What kind of king promises hope and love

And eternal life in a realm above?

The King that created all life from the start,

Is my Lord, Jesus Christ, the King of my heart.

Tag: Christian poetry

In a Dark Midnight Garden

Some Say

Something About That Man

The Wild World

I AM – a poem

A Candle Burning

In Heaven – a poem

© 2016 Mollie Pearce McKibbon

Without God – a hymn

My Saviour – a winter poem

What Kind of King?

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© 2016 Mollie Pearce McKibbon

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