Welcome to my blog. I'm afraid it won't be updated too frequently, as I only write when moved to write. These are a group of my poems, as written through the often difficult trek of the past nine months (at present) of my life.
I hope they speak to you and somehow reach the chords of your life, and that God will bring you through as He without doubt is doing to me.

God bless you.
~Jane Johnson,
August 14th, 2010

Saturday, December 18, 2010


It's funny how like a little girl
I feel when walking down the street.
Skipping with my arm tucked in Daddy's,
And a skirt reaching to my feet.

We both stroll happily together
Through biting chill and shops.
He gives me a £10 note,
I give a happy cry, hug and hop.

Although we often don't get along
I adore the times we do.
Daddy, you love by giving to me;
I know I'm horrid, but I do love you.

Walking along all wrapped up warm,
My hair tied back in a bun,
Daddy's wearing his big bear coat,
I've glasses and no makeup on.

It's funny how safe I feel inside
How happy and little-girl I can be,
When I don't feel I have to impress;
Caused by dress, and Daddy and me.

I stood carolling in the shopping centre,
While Dad nipped in to "the boys",
Holding the shopping and singing along,
Heart chords touched by Christmas joy.

He asked if I had room to eat
One of Gregg's marvellous sausage rolls.
I laughed, and said of course I can!
I just can't eat one whole!

We stepped inside the shop and we
Ordered one from the tired shop man.
He barely looks up as he wraps it in
A bag as quick as he can.

He hands it over the counter and
With a smile, I catch his eye,
Wish him a happy Christmas,
And to my surprise, he nearly cries.

His worried expression relaxes as
He glances to both of us,
With a softened face, he gratefully says,
"And to you - God bless."

My dad returns the blessing and
We set out for the car park near.
Jauntily happy as we walk along -
Glad God used us to give Christmas cheer.

It's funny how different I feel,
As later that night I replace
My long skirt with a knee length one,
And apply makeup to my face.

As I pull on my military shirt,
Adjust my corporal's stripes,
Slip into my parade shoes,
And get ready for the night -

I learn to deal with security,
Incompetance and fear.
The loss of three of my best friends;
Isolated and backbitten here.

My failings are held to open scorn,
My false dealings against the Light -
The Light I held forth for so long
Will be mocked because of me tonight.

Independent, I stride out,
I fight to cover my faults.
Withdrawing from the pushy crowd
Faintly fighting each religious assault.

It's funny to see the difference in girls.
One little girl, safe and secure.
The other one independent and strong,
Making walls as defences get fewer.

Which one was I meant to be?
Can't live the first all my life.
So I need to stand out there and get
A grip with daily strife.

Oh God, make me what I once was!
Help me to strive to be
The witness for Thee I once dreamed
That Thou didst destine me!

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