Drunk in the thistle head,
Bees become
Comforted
In the leisure
Of the drug
Emitted like scent
And colour.
No longer
The wary leg
Raised
And body tilted
In defensive
‘Keep away’
For heads
Burrow deep
As forgetting.
And what was happy work
Is just the blissful dream
Of being
Carefree and abundant,
And being so very drunk
On the utter taste of love.
© Ben Truesdale and distilledvoice, 2015
Inspired and for la petite maison bijoux http://grahy.fr
distilledvoice 
That’s amazing, thank you so much for the dedication.
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Reblogged this on la petite maison bijoux and commented:
I’m thrilled to say that today’s Monday Verse was inspired by one of my own blog posts. It’s by Ben Truesdale over on the Distilled Voice blog, and the thoughts behind it were sparked by my post The Thistle and the Bees. Thank you Ben!
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