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, by Damon Carr
Robert L. Martin

Muted Trumpets

Muted trumpets with scarlet golden beacons
shine upon the early clouds as daylight becomes
a new day embarking from the sound and early light
as the grasses rise up to their highest height.
 
From the highst pitch, the secret sounds are heard,
reveille to the ears of the grasses in silent word,
as a secret command to rise up and stand tall
in regemental columns standing up 'til evenfall.
 
Employed by the Sun Gods from the earliest days,
they play on through the rain and thickest haze,
those stout-hearted trumpeters of earthly fame,
obedient to the commands from whence they came.
 
Trumpeters with medals of honor and  poetic song,
sons of Gabriel and gallantry all day strong,
with beacons and silent sounds every early morn
play reveille each day since the skies were born.
 
Beautiful sunrises from the muted trumpets
adorn the mornings and such glorious sunsets.
Oh beautiful morn, oh beautiful light and sound
with colors blended into music from all around.
Blow thy trumpets, thy sons of Gabriel.

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