An Angel's Touch
It was Wednesday morning service
in the church next to the school
and Helen sat next to you
in the old wooden pew
her eyes peering
behind her thick lens glasses
at you and she whispered
your mum's meeting my mum
in the street market after school
and then we're going to my house
for a cup of tea
and I can show you
my doll's house
that my dad made
out of an orange box
and it's got lights
and everything
you leaned your head
towards her and said
in a low voice
oh right yes that'll be good
hoping none of your mates
could hear
especially Cogan
who only the other week
threatened to bloody your nose
but he didn't show after school
and she smiled
and you looked at the altar
where the vicar
was lighting candles
and Mrs Murphy
was walking down the aisle
like an aging storm trooper
in her hand knitted cardigan
and brown pleated skirt
Helen whispered
and you can see
[...] Read more
poem by Terry Collett
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
