Writers note- Here is a poem in the style of Eugene Fielding,
the late Victorian poet
whom my mother used to read to me when I was a child. I dedicate
this poem to R.M. who is a dear friend and inspiration.



THE ANGELS VOICE

When I was little and I knelt to pray
At the side of the bed my mother would say
If you die before you wake
Pray to God your soul to take
How oh Mother, oh Mother dear
Will I know if I have died?
That Im no longer at your side?
Youll know my son by the Angels voice
Youll know my son by the Angels voice



How will I know if its heaven or hell?
Will I be all alone, how will I tell?
Youll know by the sound of the Angles voice
Youll know by the sound of the Angles voice
That was many long year past
I remember the words but nothing else lasts
The little pine bed, the full box of toys
They are all scattered and gone
Long gone childhood joys

Mommy and Daddy are long dead and gone
I know that lots of my choices were wrong
I never thought in all these years
Of that message so old to allay my fears
But when I heard you today
With you voice ringing clear
That message of childhood rang in my ear
Youll know by the sound of the Angels voice
Youll know by the sound of the Angels voice

Perhaps I have died and Ive gone to heaven
Perhaps Im still dreaming and its only seven
I can still hear the tick tock of the clock on the wall
I can see by the sun that the moon did not fall
But why after hearing your voice on the phone
Do I still hear in my ears my lost mothers tone
Youll know by the sound of the Angels voice
Youll know and then youll make your choice

Im closer to heaven then I am to birth
I lived life like every other person on earth
I have plenty of things but of what are they worth
But I dont want to face either heaven or hell
Without one last chance of ringing the bell
And I m sure that sound of that special choice
Will be the musical sound of your angelic voice
Youll know by the sound of the Angels voice
Youll know by the sound of the Angels voice