The Trumpets Call
Prose-Poetry
by Anne G
These are the days, so often mentioned.
The days of calm, before the storm.
A menace grows around the globe.
Madk and garb disguise the monsters.
Deceitful rhetoric used to conquer.
The days of peace, are nearly ended.
Unrest and chaos have descended.
This is a plea, to one and all.
Hasten to heed, the trumpet’s call.
Before our foe reaches our shores.
Then it will be much too late.
All we are, will be for naught.
Anne G
JUNE 2016 AUTHOR OF THE MONTH at Spillwords.com
Why write?
I write because I am:
Driven to distraction by the inequities of the society in which we live.
Motivated by cruelty, abuse, ignorance and indifference.
My intention: To poke, prod and provoke!
"Moderation is a fatal thing. Nothing succeeds like excess." - Oscar Wilde
I write because I am:
Driven to distraction by the inequities of the society in which we live.
Motivated by cruelty, abuse, ignorance and indifference.
My intention: To poke, prod and provoke!
"Moderation is a fatal thing. Nothing succeeds like excess." - Oscar Wilde
Latest posts by Anne G (see all)
- A Light Shone Bright - January 6, 2021
- A Treeless Life - November 3, 2020
- Infertile Revolution - September 8, 2020
