The Lost Song

The language of unsaying

captivates the soul—

secret codes and phrases

bound in nature’s scroll.


Convoluted messages

elude the human mind.

Beginningless—it ends,

lost to all mankind.


© 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



Atop the showy bracts,

flowers of the universe

sit glistening in their crown

like diamonds of the soul.


Twisted scarlet foliage tapering

into a celestial body of stellar light,

twinkles brilliantly beneath

the countless jewels.


A venomous milky substance travels

through the branching framework of the galaxy,

nourishing the heavenly body of a miracle.


Carefully cloaked in a cosmos of colour,

the flower of the “Holy Spirit

will shine but once a year.


© Angela Trumble 2011 A Literary Artist’s Music All Rights Reserved



If I had to write a message-

a note within the sand,

to apologize in the future,

for all who raped this land.


I would search to find an Ocean

and scrape back all the years,

of human waste and progress

beneath a stream of tears.


I would start with “Please Forgive Me”,

I thought I was in need.

Yet all of these possessions,

were simply out of Greed.


I never meant to hurt you;

my thoughts of things and fun,

were simply more exciting

than the beauty of our sun.


The forest broken and battered,

with decomposing limbs.

A holocaust of nature –

the future’s brightness dims.


The land now dry and stark,

lay withered like a corpse.

Stripped of all its beauty,

the light now turns to dark.


How can I say “I’m Sorry”,

for killing life within ?

The innocence of nature,

was taken once again.


© Angela Trumble 2011 A Literary Artist’s Music All Rights Reserved



Small-town shadows sprawling moonlit streets, abandoned structures jutting awkwardly in disrepair.  Staring into distant space a ponderous silence erupts with passing screams. Foul smelling bodies treading liquid sidewalks weave tirelessly through obscure gateways, leaving grainy casts of hardened souls.  Blurry images gargling poisonous phlegm huddle grudgingly in wind-swept corners of obscenity.  Assaulting eyes dart nervously, paralyzed hearts pounding with intoxication.  Reluctantly, a depository of fading thoughts lies faceless in a battered tomb.



© Angela Trumble 2011 A Literary Artist’s Music