Poems

Poems

In The Summer Dusk

~ distilledvoice ~ Leave a comment

In the summer dusk
all is sweet temptation
in musk of earthy being:
even the grass
is dew sugar first hay,
tender and sun soaked elixir
to horsly kind,
frolicsome and effervescent
to pink noses everywhere.

And what air: warm as comfort,
barefooted and shirt undone,
base note to the roses flood
of velvet, lusty tantalisation:
a shedding of potions loving
and daintily perfumed.

What dwells in this scented night,
but creatures of the stillness,
hid deep from our slice of daily life,
nocturnal to it
and waking only to the moon
and sweetness magic from
disgorging night-flowers.

A hedgehog snuffles and is alive.
Moths are vibrant,
aerialed to the pheromonal moon
and unseen currents high and trail like.
And beetles alight the moonbeams,
unfurl their hidden wings
and step to the unsteady air,
to taste and be beside
the molecules abundant.

© Ben Truesdale and distilledvoice, 2015.

The Blogger Plant

~ distilledvoice ~ Leave a comment

Like creepers
And tangled vines
Urging for the high light,
Bloggers speak out
With leaves of thought,
Search for every photon dealt,
Yearning daily taller
In appreciation’s height
For sunshine on the face
Of their creation.

© Ben Truesdale and distilledvoice, 2015.

Horizon

~ distilledvoice ~ Leave a comment

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A sea wind
Strafes the land
With sun scold
And cloud shadow,
And skylarks hunker,
Warbling in the low gorse,
And bluebells weather
On the seaward slope,
And foxgloves sturdy in the verge
Allow bees their leeward staircase.

The sea is to the full horizon.
And beyond, there is likely
More for thought, for the nothing
In the globe’s curve holds the eyes
To distant possibility: and to the mind
bestows its ponderous question mark.

© Ben Truesdale and distilledvoice, 2015.

Earth’s Gullet

~ distilledvoice ~ Leave a comment

From the earth’s gullet
Gurgles a spring:

A damp throated chuckle
And breath

As moist as love
Seeps and clings

And an echo
Finds the nook

To be homely shadow.
A grotto of green

Coating beings,
A mist of epiphytes,

Sponge dwelling moss
And primordial simpleness,

Cups droplets clean
To reflect and magnify,

And hold spherical worlds
On silver, meniscal skin.

© Ben Truesdale and distilledvoice, 2015.

Sea Air

~ distilledvoice ~ Leave a comment

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Touched by the algal roll
Of clump and de-clump,
Slosh and surge,
And imbalance
Wet wishing for flat rightness,
And then again
And again
In wave formed turbulence
And the swirling instabilities.

The air
Is sea trained and tainted,
Salt kissed
And matter coated,
Ozoned and flecked
With crest alighted bubble
Of brown spume
And froth.

It’s almost greasy to the touch
And heavy on the breath,
And fresh
For it is
Of sky
And horizon’s depth
And leagues made:
Palette painted with tumultuous storm
And the quietness of sublime calm,
And all the colours there between.

I receive it
With face seaward seeing
And the fingers of a tussle
At the ringlets of my fringe,
And a wide, wide thought
Of emptiness,
Where Seagulls
Glow in sunbeams
And dare the fickle cliffs,
And dive for wild fish
If only for the joyful plunge of it.

© Ben Truesdale and distilledvoice, 2015.