Sunday, 19 July 2009


We know not the hour when fleeing breath
Bids us farewell and ushers in death
When we close our eyes and life says goodbye
It steals away and then we will die

We know not the hour but it is surely coming
Each breath we take a death note is humming
In the nostrils of all who breathe in air
Death’s scythe is reaping and none it will spare

For God said the soul that sins surely will die
In Him is the truth and no shadow of a lie
Ever formed itself on His holy lips
And time from a sinner surely it slips

Fast and fleeting; so quickly it goes
How much of it left nobody knows
Carrying us surely down to the grave
What of the soul if it is not safe?

What then of your riches and treasures of wealth
No medicine will restore your body to health
When death’s chill hand touches your brow
And coldly it says; I come for you now

We know not the hour of the trumpet blast
Sounding in triumph; Jesus comes at last
When He will gather His saints in rapture to the air
Tell me my friend will I see you there?

For I know with assurance He is coming some hour
The king in His glory; mighty in power
If living when He comes my raptured body will soar
To meet with the saints who have gone on before

The hands of the clock circling its face
Pointing to time going by you can never replace
Like swift flowing sand in the hour glass
See now quickly time and life it will pass

Grasp time then sinners its precious moments not waste
For now is the time; to Jesus make haste
Call for His mercy for in fear you will cower
If He comes and you are not ready this very hour

Colin Moffett


I will send to God on the wings of a prayer
The flight of faith will carry it there
To a loving Father willing to hear
Who listens to His child with an ever open ear

They will bring to my Father thanks for His giving
His blessings for the day and breath for my living
His strength for my weakness to make me more strong
And His arms when I am weary to carry me along

The wings of prayer will take to Him my pleading
For lifting of burdens and healing I am needing
And asking for guidance and seeking His will
While I wait for His answer humbled and still

The wings of prayer may get ruffled in their going
Tossed about in wild winds of a storm that is blowing
Strong in their flight,; they rise above the tempest blown
And rest at the feet of the King on His throne

Strong wings of prayer upwards they fly
Rising from earth to Heaven on high
The longings of my heart is the sound of their beating
Then folded and still when they come to Gods seating

Sweet joy I may have and lots of life’s sorrow
And times of happiness and sadness I exchange and I borrow
For help for my burdens or for thanks for His care
I will tell and ask of God on the wings of a prayer

Colin Moffett


It is whispered on the breeze
Through rustling leaves of mighty trees
And crackling breath of fire flame
Tell the sound of Jesus name

The sound of it in sweet bird song
Or in the voice of thunder calling strong
The mighty waves of the oceans roar
The sound of His name on sandy shore

For the redeemed it is everywhere
His blessed name sounds in the air
When all of nature with one voice
Sounds His name giving voice

Come you saints who would claim
Life eternal in Jesus name
Lift you voices; with joy abound
And let your praises for your Saviour sound

For what other name brought such delight
To darkened souls black as night
He freed from sin; He took our blame
And there is life and hope in Jesus name

How sweet it sounds upon the breath
Jesus name when facing death
When dying believer will take His hand
This name will carry them to Glory land

Of all the music one may play
Or honeyed words the world can say
To delight the ear; there is none
That sounds so sweet as Jesus; God’s own Son

Jesus; how sweet it sounds in my ear
The name I love and hold so dear
I know that I am Heaven bound
Let all my praise to Jesus sound

Colin Moffett

Friday, 10 July 2009


Laughing wind it plays in delightful glee
With drifting leafs from off the tree
They dance with her in circles round
Then rest themselves upon the ground

Coloured gems alight with red and gold
Yellow and brown that branches hold
Twiggy fingers gnarled that must let go
And drop their jewels to ground below

Once green their dress that did not stay
Yet in richer colours they must decay
Leafy carpet thick on forest floor
Will rustle awhile and then be no more

The autumn mist dewdrops shall weep
As through the valley she will creep
For she knows well that death’s around
Creeping silently by without a sound

Weep she does for a harvest coming
Gone now the days when bees were humming
Coloured wings of butterflies folded up at last
And all to come is the icy blast

Her dewdrops are like tears of God
Who returns all life to the sod
In spring He gave the seed to sow
Now in autumn fall a time to mow

A time to gather the harvest in
From fruitful field and field of sin
That which is gathered from the soil
Feeds only body and rewards our toil

But a golden sun turns to a silver moon
And a harvest of souls is coming soon
When a scythe will swing and death will call
And lives drift away like leafs in fall

Coloured gems they are but for awhile
Soon decaying away in forest pile
We who dress in sin’s coloured attire
Swept up like them and ready for the fire

Our righteousness is false beauty you see
Decaying away like the leaves from the tree
Autumn winds whisper and speak in the ear
Are you ready for the reaper as he draws near?

Spring saw your birth and summer, life run
Autumn now warns, soon all will be done
The lull before the biting and bitter icy blast
And winter’s cold shroud that soon now be cast

Beautiful days of autumn of golden leafs and red
Where mist of the morning creeps along the river bed
A harvest that is reaped and safely gathered in
Off the fruitful field and from the field of sin

Colin Moffett