The Royal Trumpets

By Sandra C. Bebbington

To Grand-pa-George Hall, Sr.

I see an impression of tomorrow

lingering just beyond the clouds.

I hear those trumpets playing softly

with conviction thundering about.

I hear the royal trumpets playin’

a tune beckoning me home,

guiding me to the pleasant pastures.

In his presence, I will never walk alone.

I hear the royal trumpets sounding

callin’ me to the promised land,

guiding me to thy glorious savior,

leading me to my Lord’s hand.