Denis Martindale Poems
Comments about Denis Martindale
* The Cross Of Christ
The jeering crowd like jackals stood,
To see what must be done.
Though once they thought this man was good,
They didn't see God's Son.
They called Him Rabbi, Teacher, Lord,
Yet now He was Rome's slave.
So all His claims were now ignored,
For who was He to save?
The nails were driven deep inside...
More drops of blood soon fell...
Once lifted, hoisted, crucified,
His life was just like Hell.
Torment and torture lay ahead.
His scourged back stung and bled and bled
As briars bruised His brain.
His mother wept each passing ...
The Secret Of His Power!
When faith asserts itself on Earth,
Just like the faith of Wigglesworth,
I tell you this, the Devil shakes...
And even in his spirit aches...
The Christian who serves like Saint Paul,
Deserves each mighty miracle!
And yet stays humble, not to boast,
But seeking still the Holy Ghost!
Because the Saviour sent Him here,