Trumpet Sounds



Trumpet Sounds

From the valley
they mounted
before hell's fury
under the fire of guns.

To the sound
of Boots and Saddles
amid a veil of dust
onward they rushed.

In powdered mist
riders were falling
like water flowing
in buckets of blood.

As a call went out
to blow the bugle
from a hasting death
face down in mud.

Signal Recall
and play it well
bring our riders
back from Satan's lair.

While the dead
still ride
forevermore
onward to hell.

The battle
was fierce
and many died
on this fatal day.

It is time
once more
to hear
your trumpet cry.

Blow it now
for pity sake
Blow it
For the breath it takes.

Let them hear
the loud notes
of your trumpet
dance on the air.

Then play taps
For all who fell
as I kneel
with eyes closed
to pray.
.

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Submitted on July 05, 2016

Modified on March 05, 2023

43 sec read
6

Quick analysis:

Scheme ABAX XXXX XCCB XDXB XEXF XGFE DXGH XXIX XXXX IXXF XEXXH
Closest metre Iambic dimeter
Characters 688
Words 144
Stanzas 11
Stanza Lengths 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 6

Norman Wilson

IntroductionForgotten are the times the tick of a clock once chimed sobering sounds that caressed my hearts nightly dreams. As I awaken to the touch of light that burns upon a candles wick flickering my words for all to see. This drives my thoughts through the darkest of nights of loneliness that renders my quill upon parchment with ink that dances to minds and souls.Now I hear the screeching of my heart when the blue horizon covers the orb of emptiness.Within the shelter of my mind with little, purpose other than my words that keep me sane. These are my new poems I have written in the quiet of my night, forever wished away in a writer’s pain. As I strive to write that perfect poem that, my soul desperately seeks. Then and only then can my words rest upon a sleep. more…

All Norman Wilson poems | Norman Wilson Books

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