It’s up to you to take a



© Angela Trumble 2012 A Literary Artist’s Music




Windows dipped in abstract quills—

vignette views of coastal hills.


A pantomime beneath a chuddar,

fan-shaped hands— a blurry flutter.


Heavy thoughts on pillows suede,

reflect in eyes of precious jade.


Questions heard but seldom spoke,

afraid of feelings they evoke.


Are we not, but children free—

gifts of love from just one tree?


© Angela Trumble 2012 A Literary Artist’s Music


The Pink Thereafter


Sea-kissed mornings brimming with ballooning reflections magnify a twisted sanguine complexion; enhanced scars exhibiting years of climatic change peek shyly from beneath the shedding layers. Whispering, a soft breeze dances to the repetitive songs of the chickadee—black caps waltzing in perfect unison.   “Private” markers adorning man-made perfection heighten loneliness within; as oily straitjackets confining pages of imagination— lay dripping.  Abandoned, a mechanical tail sways jerkily from beneath the window sill; yearning eyes scan the horizon— broken lungs burning with desire.   Pink ribbons clutching breastless hearts—race for a cure.

What mysteries lay behind the guarded gates, as an angel sits—peacefully waiting?

© Angela Trumble 2012 A Literary Artist’s Music


My Daughter

An angel sent from heaven—

a gift eternally.

A child’s birth so graven,

one never could foresee.


The blooming of a larkspur—

devoted to this day,

became my angel’s flower,

a buttercup—per say.


A twinkling crimson jewel,

as brilliant as her eyes.

Would represent this moment,

the twelfth day of July.


The halo that surrounds her,

shines brightly on my soul.

A brother’s love from heaven,

protects her even more.


Her wings of love caress me,

and fill my heart with glee.

I hold each moment closely,

wondering what is yet to be.


Spread your wings my darling,

have faith in all that’s you.

Remember me beside you,

in everything you do.

© Angela Trumble 2012 A Literary Artist’s Music