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Heaven's Clock Tick tock the clock has stopped, heavenly tribunal, the gavel as dropped. Idolatrous people, hearken, a trumpet sound! the watchman is warning, a shofar blows loud. Woe to you! For the time has now come; let the Judge now judge, a scroll passed to His Son. Souls estranged from God, adopted from below; no worries here, leave me alone! Repent! Repent! the pulpiter does cry; no need for such rhetoric, why should I? The Thief in the night is coming to you, a mounted white horse, upon is Faithful and True. A fairy tale of sorts, the scoffer remarks; open the gates! Four horses depart. Seals, trumpets, vials from heaven, Almighty has risen, they will be given in sevens. A bow bending strong, increasing it’s arc; Divine arrows aimed, retribution does start. Hide me! Hide me! in the clefts of the rocks; be not deceived, God is not mocked. For many a years His mercy extended; had ye accepted, Daysman had defended. Now turn your ear, and hear this sound; hoofbeats of horses, the clock has unwound. Tick tock, tic tock, rewind the clock round; set it for seven, let judgment abound. Written by Adam Bohne |
A Sealed Fate Entrenched in darkness, a fallen state, man in rebellion, a sealed fate? Eat not of the tree, God had commanded; Adam defying, God’s countenance saddened. What have ye done? God does ask; the man’s pure countenance, a sinful mask. I will cast ye out, ye shall surely die, for in thy pride, ate ye the devil’s lie. Perished from grace of his own free will; his hand put forth born all the world’s ill. Bygone an image, a soul of perfection; delusory eyes brought him into subjection; To a world of death, toil and despair, yet God’s grace magnified, all will be repaired. Let Us counsel together, a plan for the ages; commission the prophets, the old time sages. A Light will shine in darkness, the Son of Man; the course has been set, a cross will stand. The innocent shall be slain, the declaration on high; Adam the 2nd will bring sinners nigh. Crimson our sins, yet crimson will cleanse, the burden of Adam, the burden of men. Eden made aright on Calvary’s hill; Divine justice satisfied to this day still. Man in rebellion, a sealed fate? Prostrate at the cross, an ivory slate. Written by Adam Bohne |
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The Glory of God O to see the glory of God! I ask this grace to bestow; yet these sinful eyes are too weak in sight, to behold Thy Majesty enclothed in light. Hearken to me O LORD, my soul crieth after Thee; grant just one glimpse I pray, of Thy glorious Royalty. Extend Thy hand forth, touch Thou mine eyes; to you I entreat with heavy sighs. For my heart is athirst for the Glory of God; my heart it does pant to see; the glorious brightness of the LORD; Only through Christ it shall be. O how I long to see the break of day, when the veil from my eyes will be torn away; then will I behold Thee in golden splendor, to much for my soul, awestruck in wonder. Have I asked amiss O God, let it not be so; Holy Writ does testify, Thou shalt be known. And when I shall pass from this earthly sphere, brought unto Thee I will, to Thy glory near. O to see the glory of God, may this hunger never die; for I know the promise to be fulfilled, I shall behold thee with pure eyes. Written by Adam Bohne |
Father Time Meets God Let me introduce myself, Father Time is my name. May hands turn round, everyday the same. Unbiased, impartial, no prejudice here, I give to all equally, he says with a sneer. Yet boastful and proud, Father Time is he, I say, can’t you see you are all subject to me? Psst, a faint whisper in the background is heard; the hands of time now turn; it is the Eternal Word. Have you forgotten already? I am the Ancient of Days; where were you before the foundations were laid? From everlasting to everlasting, this is My way; let me ask you, when was My first day? Before you were, I existed in Three, without beginning or end, can it be said of thee? I will turn thy hands uopn thy face; I will spin thee round, you have your right place. You will do My bidding, My decrees you’ll comply; I AM THAT I AM, the Ancient on High. You see father time is no one, but rather some-thing, created in the past by the Omnipotent Being. So think this thought through my intriguing friend, serve ye this thing, or it’s Master instead? And as you traverse uopn this earthen sod, forget not the Time Maker, the Everlasting God. 
Written by Adam Bohne |
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Fight the Good Fight Fight the good fight O man of faith; heed this call, evil is at thy gates. Gird up thy armor, draw forth thy sword; a battle does wage with the devil’s hordes. The Lord is with thee on this battle front; be not afraid of evil, ye must confront. Heaven is at thy beckoning call; I lift my eyes to The All in All. My hand shall lead thee, the Lord hath said, into the battles that I so dread. Be not afraid nor be dismayed, your adversary the devil has been slayed. At the Cross of Calvary his fate was sealed; to the Holy Scriptures I thus appeal. So take thy stance and lift up thy shield, for to this must the devil yield. I raise my banner to the Lord of Hosts; victory in Christ, yes this I’ll boast. Fight the good fight O Man of Faith; be of good courage, for the Lord He saith. Written by Adam Bohne |
A Morning & Night Prayer A prayer in the morning, a prayer in the night, insufficient is this, Lord, for the battles we fight. Let our censors be full throughout the day; sufficient is this, Lord, for the war we wage. Pray continually O man of prayer; the devil is nigh, be thus aware. One prayer or two is our weakness shown; the devil and his bidders, to this is known. Sufficient unto the day are the battle woes; watch ye and pray our Savior has told. Let us go to prayer never ceasing; the devil’s breath, I feel him seeking. Let us seek the Lord on His lifted throne, continually beseeching with heavy groans. Not one nor two but many prayers, will thus deliver from the devil’s snares. A prayer in the morning, a prayer in the night, insufficient is this, Lord, for the battles we fight. Written by Adam Bohne |
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The Lord Is My Might I look to the left, I look to the right; the battle is here, yet where is my might? How I would pull Thee from heaven to sit by my side; I have no faith Lord, in Thee I’d confide. Why dost thou fear and fret to and fro? I am nigh unto thee, this ye should know. In the battle calm Thy presence is felt; easy to pray Lord, so my knees have knelt. Yet the storm clouds beckon and the battle cry heard, time for war! Where is He whom I’ve served? I rise to my feet and my soul doth doubt, I have no faith Lord! Does He hear my shout? I am present with you, oh ye of little faith; stay on your knees, tis is the best place. Now clasp your hands, bend your knee low, and soon ye shall see, heaven’s fire glow. This now I know, the Lord is with me; it was fervent prayer that caused me to see. I look to the left, I look to the right; yes the Lord surrounds me, yes He is my Might! Written by Adam Bohne |
The Sign Of The Times The Sign of the Times I once paid no mind, insignificant to me, eyes that were blind. Jonah in the whale three days and three nights; Messiah does speak, thou art dulled in sight. A wayward soul, my heart gone astray, a sheep off the path, lost on the way. But the prophets did speak to this sleeping heart; The Book now opened, a quest did start. I will search for the truth, a Holy Hand guiding; sin thus revealed, Christ not abiding. A journey of length continuing on; my heart awakened to the heavenly song. Three days and three nights in the earth for you; my wages paid, my sinful dues. O call on me! The Lord has said; it is for your sins my blood was shed. Eyes now opened, the guilt has been shown; confession of sins Christ made Himself known. In faith do I trust, a sinner brought nigh; Christ’s death and resurrection, most glorious Divine! The Spirit thus revealed the Sign of the Times; All praises to Thee, my Savior on high. Written by Adam Bohne |
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Lord Show Me Lord, Show me how to love my wife, for Thou hast shown me love in Christ. Show me how to adore her, for I adore Thee. Show me how to honor her, yet I honor Thee first. Show me how to respect her, for I revere Thy Holiness. Show me how to guide her, as I am guided by Thy Spirit. Show me how to teach her, as Thy Spirit teaches me. Show me how to sympathize with her, just as my High Priest does for me. Show me how to listen to her, as Thou hast bent Thine ear to me. Show me how to communicate with her, as Thou hast spoken to me. Show me how to be merciful to her, for Thy endless mercy shown me. Show me how to be graceful to her, for Thou hast shown me grace. Show me how to be patient with her, for I know Thou art patient with me. Show me how to be forgiving toward her, just as Thou hast forgiven me. Show me how to be at peace with her, for Christ has made peace between me and Thee. Lord, just show me how to be Christlike to her, for Thou hast shown Christ to me. 
Written by Adam Bohne |
The Prophet's Commission High and lifted up, the LORD on His throne, the prophet saw the vision, to him it was shown. The LORD’s train filled the temple, what a glorious sight; feel the prophet tremble in the presence of His might. Above the throne, the seraphims are nigh, with four they cover and with two they fly. And one cried to another a thrice praise of Holy; yes, the whole earth is full of His glory. The LORD of Hosts is His name thus revealed; the seraphims sing and cannot conceal. See the posts of the door move at the voice; the prophet does witness, the LORD was His choice. Woe is me! for I am undone; confession of the prophet who’s seen the Holy One. A man of unclean lips the prophet does say; too much was the vision the thrice Holy One gave. Purge his sins, his offense take away, the prophet’s heart fails, see it begin to sway. Yet the time is not yet for this vision to end; the LORD is heard saying, Whom shall I send? And who will go for us? The LORD does ask; the prophet is ready, prepared for the task. Then said I, here am I send me; the prophet will go to his people you see. A commission will be given to this prophet undone, to preach to his people, he is the chosen one. Now what will you do when the LORD calls you, to go to your people, will you preach the Word true? O give us this vision LORD, let us know Thou art holy; let us fulfill Thy Commission, to Thee be the glory! Written by Adam Bohne |
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What Part of the Body Am I? Am I the hands of comfort, am I the feet of peace? Am I the tears of mercy or the arms that never cease? Do I use my strength to rip apart the whole? Or do I allow Your love to penetrate the soul? My greatest desire, my earnest plea, Is that whatever part I play, brings Glory unto Thee. Written by Becky Bohne |
Dear Holy, Precious Savior Dear Holy, Precious Savior I come to You and plea To feel your awesome presence And Glory now to see. I'm treading lightly, slowly Upon this rugged sod My joy is but a whimper My head can barely nod. Pain I can not fathom What others have endured But in my own dark valley I need Your touch assured. I long to be beside You A walk along the way This life is but a vapor Still can seem the longest day Dear Holy, Precious Savior I want to see Your face Please hold me in Your arms now To feel Your warm embrace Written by Becky Bohne |
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A Preacher's Poem Hidden behind a veil so bright; before me shines the light of Christ. To the shadows I fade with just one plea: no recognition desired, no glory received. Ascend now and preach this glorious day! Christ only seen, this is the way. Written by Adam Bohne |
Hickory Dickory Hypocrisy Hickory dickory dock, the Christian talks the talk. But too content is he, with the world he sees, hear the skeptic scoff and mock. Hickory dickory hypocrisy, Jesus does see much in me. A rebuke in store, I know this Lord, we live by the world's philosophy. Hickory dickory WHOPP! God backhands His flock. Wake up my sheep, your testimony is cheap, learn to walk your talk. Written by Adam Bohne |
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I Once Saw A Drunkard I once saw a drunkard, he was stumbling about, uneasy, typsy, a foot ready to slide. What a sorry sight I thought; see him grope as if he were blind. No direction or balance, a man off course; someone go help this poor old sod. Let me help you mister, it is clear you are not well. Don't need your help sonny, I'm fine on my own. Where will you go sir? Behold! the blanket of night. Go on your way boy, I'm quite comfortable in my way. As you wish sir, this will I do, but let me shake the dust from my shoe. Now he that is wise, let him see, that the face of the drunkard, is a mirror of you and me. And as I walked away, this I'll say: this wasn't no drunkard; it was the world gone astray. Written by Adam Bohne |