Wasted Years

I became a Christian some years back and wrote this poem when I was baptised.

He called, but l did not listen
He talked, but l could not hear
He tried to get close to me
But l would not let him near

He tried to wipe my eyes
He could see that l was blind
He tried to help me think of him
To soothe my troubled mind.

He really tried to help me
My Lord, whose son died on the cross
I just did not take any notice
Worse, l did not know my loss

Then as l wandered life’s pathway
In my own sweet way
A friend stepped in to help me
He taught me how to pray.

But, now would He listen?
After all those wasted years
Would he want me near him?
Was the worst of all my fears

But, as l clenched my hands
And prayed to far above
l felt the good Lord’s presence
And His undying love

When l called He listened
When l talked He heard
I asked Him to be near me
He heard my every word

He wiped my eyes gently
At last He made me see
l now count my blessings
As He walks each day with me.

A Christian poem by:  Brian Turner