9 Poems About Jesus
Much has been written about Jesus Christ. Let these inspiring and uplifting poems about Jesus give
you words to consider.
There are many names that refer to Jesus: God's only begotten Son, The Prince of Peace,
Immanuel, Light of The World, Messiah, Son of Man, Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace
to name only a few.
Jesus can change your life if you all Him to. The choice is always yours! We hope these Christian poems encourage and inspire you.
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The Savior's Love
Poet: J. J. Thorne
Jesus died on Calvary's mountain.
He submitted himself for all;
To bleed and die upon the cross,
For those on Him who call.
He shed his blood for our sins,
That we might through him be saved;
On him depends our wretched hearts,
A Triumph over the grave.
He submitted himself with all power.
On earth and in heaven above;
To die and go down in the grave.
To redeem those he loved.
He breathed the calm sweet sleep of death,
Three days in the grave.
To cleanse the heart of wrecked sinners,
A loving Savior Jehovah gave.
In the grave he fixed it complete,
A happy home to please us;
Who would have borne the spear of death,
And given their life for Jesus?
He rose again the third day;
His power spread his fame;
His love a ransom of the world.
For all that believe upon his name.
He bore our burden, he paid our debt,
And ascended to heaven above,
To prepare a home for his children,
To sing praise, peace and love.
When we have finished our journey of life,
And eternity sounds its call;
He sends his artels to take us home,
To meet the Lord of all.
A heavenly home of joy and love,
None save Jesus he gives alone;
He sacrificed his precious blood,
To join us in his throne.
There to praise the tender shepherd,
No tears of sorrow fall;
All praise and honor of his ascension,
Bestowed the Lord of all.
Poet: Lucy Qriss
And lo, my heart was sad, alone,
Bereft of one whose loving presence
Unceasing thoughtfulness and care had given.
My soul was plunged in solitude
Which ne'er before had sorrow known.
'Tis now that friendship's sacred help draws near,
And shares the painful loneliness;
Yet with all that sympathy would willingly bestow,
There is a depth it fails to calm.
Far back in deep recesses of the inner self
Unveiled, there still remains an aching hungriness
No human love can reach to soothe.
'Tis Christ alone who holds the key
And knows the balm that's needed there;
Yes, he can fathom every depth
And mould the hidden brokenness
To perfect harmony.
Serve Him Well
Poet: Greta Zwaan, © 2004
Before you serve you must obey, you cannot walk at will,
There's guidance for your daily walk, the Voice says, "Peace, be still."
You must discern the truth of God and recognize your sin,
Be willing to release its hold before God enters in.
You must relinquish all the claims you've held so firm and dear,
That independent will of yours will have to disappear.
You must regard the will of God superior to your own,
Remove the idols that you have, let God be God alone.
Don't use Him as a Sunday crutch, don't serve Him just one hour,
For every weekday too is His, He claims it through His power.
But God will not distort your plans, you must come willingly;
He'll never press a soul to change, you have to hear His plea.
Commit your way unto the Lord, He calls, He waits, He hears;
There is no sin He can't erase amid this vale of tears.
When you are willing to obey, the past is cast aside,
The slate is cleaned by Jesus' blood, no sinner is denied.
When wholly cleansed, completely clean, no errors to confess,
Then Jesus says, "Come serve with Me and watch how I will bless."
Complete denial of worldly lusts, a willingness to go;
Committed to the cause of Christ, His strength He will bestow.
You have no power of your own, but through Him you'll acquire,
The faith that brings you to your knees, refined as if by fire.
A vessel for the Master's use, a tool within His hand;
You are equipped to serve Him well, on any foreign land.
When Christ Was Born
Poet: Florence Earle Coates
On that divine all-hallowed morn
When Christ in Bethlehem was born.
How lone did Mary seem to be,
The kindly beasts for company!
But when she saw her infant's face -
Fair with the soul's unfading grace.
Softly she wept for love's excess.
For painless ease and happiness.
She pressed her treasure to her heart -
A lowly mother, set apart
In the dear way that mothers are.
And heaven seemed high, and earth afar:
And when grave kings in sumptuous guise
Adored her babe, she knew them wise;
For at his touch her sense grew dim -
So all her being worshipped him.
A nimbus seemed to crown the head
Low-nestled in that manger-bed.
And Mary's forehead, to our sight,
Wears ever something of its light;
And still the heart - poor pensioner!
In its affliction turns to her -
Best love of all, best understood.
The type of selfless motherhood!
How Much Did Christ Really Suffer?
Greta Zwaan, © 2009
Jesus suffered from His first day on earth,
separation from God on the day of His birth.
Of't left alone to walk this dark vale,
misunderstood though He loved without fail.
Tortured in body and tortured in soul,
He passed through the valley yet still in control.
He cried o'er Jerusalem, He cried over sin,
not of His own faults but that He might win,
Victory o'er evil to set all men free,
rejecting the power of Satan's decree.
Satan demanded that man be his conquest,
with the greatest of skill he stirred man to unrest,
But Christ had compassion, He saw each man's need,
while Satan's department was absolute greed.
Christ came as servant, Satan as thief;
Christ brought man healing, Satan brought grief.
Man saw the conflict and couldn't decide -
was Christ to be honoured and Satan denied?
Immediate pleasure was Satan's appeal,
Christ made demands that man thought surreal.
Leave all your treasures, come follow Me;
Satan responded, "With me you are free."
Christ is the Truth, the life and the Way;
Satan, the false one, who leads man astray.
Christ gave up all so that man could rejoice,
by clinging to Him, obeying His voice.
Man has the freedom to walk his own way;
but let it be known, with Satan, you pay!
With Jesus the debt was paid on the cross;
with Satan, no gain but complete, total loss.
Don't be dissuaded but open your eyes,
Satan will offer you nothing but lies.
Be advised strongly, you'll never regret,
the road paved by Jesus, the safest road yet!
How Big Is The Basket?
Greta Zwaan, © 2018
"Mommy, can you tell me how big the basket is?
Daddy said to ask you, that you could answer this."
"I don't quite understand dear, which basket do you mean?
There are big and little baskets and others in between."
"No, no, the basket Jesus carries that holds our family's prayers.
Where we put all our problems, the ones that Jesus shares.
He said we shouldn't worry, but tell Him how we feel;
And then He tells His daddy, Mommy, is that real?
He needs to have a basket 'cause we all pray a lot.
Remember? Daddy read that the Bible says we ought.
He calls it heavy burdens, but can He take them all?
And carry them to heaven? Our prayers are never small!
So what size is His basket, does He have more than one?
Do angels help to carry the prayers that we get done?
Tomorrow we'll have new ones, for gramps and Uncle Jack.
You know Mommy, he's so lonely, he really wants him back.
Grandpa says God knows that so why won't he come home?
Did God not get his basket, is that why he's alone?
And poor old Mrs. Smithers can barely get around,
Did angels lose her baskets and her prayers can't be found?
Poor Jesus, He's so busy, so many prayers all day,
Can we buy Him a basket to carry prayers away?
And what size of a basket would hold the prayers we make?
We can't make it too heavy; too much for Him to take.
Mommy, I want to help Him, He's busy as can be;
I'd like Him to have free time and have fun just like me.
So Mommy, just one basket that angels could help lift.
I think it would help Jesus; could we buy Him that gift?
I think 'twould make Him happy; He should be happy too,
Because He's terribly busy, that's something we could do."
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