Smiley was a mongrel dog,
Charlie a lonely boy,
so the fates threw them together,
to share life's trials and joys.
Always on adventures,
they were wont to rove,
upon the shining hillside,
or in the shadowed grove.
Then an unknown trail they traveled,
Winding wild, hard by a bog,
there to see a thing of evil,
squatting, grinning on a log.
Charlie's heart was filled with terror.
He could not move, or even scream.
He had never seen a thing like this before,
while awake or in a dream.
Smiley was the bolder,
he barked, and he gave chase.
Ran the thing into a thicket,
to disappear without a trace.
That the thing would hurt his Smiley,
was now what Charlie greatly feared,
so he gave a shout of gladness,
when Ol Smiley reappeared.
Later on that evening,
safe and warm in Charlie's room,
soft fingers of the lamplight,
brushed away the deeping gloom.
"I'm glad that you were with me.
Good dog, good dog! ", young Charlie said,
and the thing that wasn't Smiley,
smiled a smile by Charlie's bed.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem