Long Suffering Angel

My angel I have heard on high. I'm lost. I don't know who I am. You seem so high up in the sky, and I am really in a jam. By the tinkling of heaven's chime, I ask myself, suppress a grin, where have you gotten to this time? What kind of trouble are you in? I do not know quite where I am - maybe, to the slaughter led, just like Mary's little lamb, except that I will soon be dead. I can hear your voice so shrilly. I will find you, my little lamb. You needn't be dramatic, silly. If I must use GPS, I can. Oh, my angel, I must confess, I don't know the reason why I got myself into this mess - a whale's belly? I want to cry. Oh my gosh, my little fool - find you? I wonder if I can? Don't worry, my precious jewel, my angel eyes begin to scan. When grim imagination starts to roam, anywhere on earth's roundish sphere, you are always here in our home, and your angel always finds you dear.