Сердце Ангела

       THE HEART OF AN ANGEL


A boy was calling on the phone.
His name was simple – Henry Stone.
A five-year boy was shocked and scared,
His mother died. Nobody cared

His eyes were glowing heaven-blue.
For him this endless world was through.
The only thing he knew was ‘Mum’.
He had no father, lips were numb.

I worked for ‘Trust line’ at that time.
I had to pinch and save each dime.
I worked at night, thus badly tired,
Exhausted, throat dry, cross-eyed.

About to leave, and someone called.
I dropped my stuff: ’Hi, it’s Jill Molt’.
A voice spoke from nowhere low:
‘My mum is dead.  I’m Henry Stone’

‘I’m five; I’m hungry in the rain’
‘Where are you, sunny?’
‘Barkley Lane’

He was a little charming Prince.
He’s been my Angel ever since.
I burst out crying, picked him up
And grabbed the boy into my truck.

I’ve gone through many things but tears.
The kid’s hot tears have burnt my ears.
His head was lying on my chest.
I held him tight, I did my best.

I felt I was the weakest thing.
He touched the deepest of the strings.
He clung to me, I felt the danger.
It stopped. The Heart of this cute Angel               
                November 19/ 2002