Poetry by Johannes Jan Kwist

A poem written by: John J. Kwist

for his daughter Marilyn (Kwist) Cichos

In this world I'm tired of Living

For I seek a world more fair

And for my heart is full of Longing

For that City Built Four Square...

There to be with him forever

In that Land of Liberty.

And my soul watching Praying

For his blessed face to see.

Blessed hope within me dwelling

Until that Great eventful Day

When the saints all true and Faithful

Will be swiftly caught away...

Won't you come and be made ready.

Be baptized in Jesus Name

And receive his Holy Spirit

Bless his precious Holy Name...

Jesus seeks the honest hearted

Souls of man his Love does melt

He'll mold and shape you for his Glory

Have you not his presence felt?

Brother you have heard the Message

Of Salvation full and free

How that Jesus Gave his life Blood

Died for you on Calvary

He that is Born once dies twice...

He that is born twice dies once...

A poem and a prayer

by: John J. Kwist

Precious Savior, love divine.

Fill this humble heart of mine,

With thy spirit ever new

Make me Lord, thy will to do.

That I may closer walk each day

Along this life’s rugged way,

By thy love be closer drawn,

And leave some deed when I am gone

Prodigal Son

Written by: John J. Kwist for M. David Kwist

I knew a lad a few short years ago:

I thought would be my pride and joy.

He has a heart of gold, I know.

Not rich in worldly things, A boy.

A prodigal at home.

There is a spot within that heart

That God alone can really melt.

One day from him I had to part,

And I have ever lonely felt,

A prodigal in his own.

I heard his footsteps on the frosted walk.

As midnight tolled another day,

His step was quick sure and soft,

And slumber soon will have its way,

A prodigal had come home.

With morn I find while he slumbers sound,

All in a heap, he’d left from there.

His clothes carelessly strewn around.

Oh that I could see them there today

A prodigal at home.

For he joined the navy one fair day,

And shortly after he went away.

He wrote of anguish and troubled pain,

I watched anxiously for that train,

That brings my prodigal home.

Now he’s on an island far away

Where to himself I pray he’ll come

I know ‘twill be a happy day

For a boy wakes up and finds himself,

When the prodigal comes home.

And then to follow on with God,

To occupy his blessed will,

This world of sin no more to trod.

And God will with His spirit fill.

A prodigal has come home.