So Speak The Ancients

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They speak
As they have always spoken

For in the long lost,
To be man was to listen:

For the ancient’s song
Was to the heart first given.

And in that time
There was no loneliness

For all together
Could hear:

The words brought warmth
To those alone

And feelings
Were gently administered to

By man’s depth
Of understanding.

And fear was diminished
By the mind’s wide aspect

And reach across the heavens
That the free may walk,

Just as self embodied
Walks free upon the earth.

And love was easily found
And so the needs were few

And the people were happy
And the living good

As ever could
The living be

With voices
Always speaking

In kindness decree.

© Ben Truesdale and distilledvoice, 2015.

For Patrick Jennings http://pixtowords.com

From Blueness

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FullSizeRender

Sea born rhythms
Arrive in blueness pulse
After blueness pulse,
And where the shallows
Show in pale shoals
And the globes of stones
Glow egg-like and shimmering,
The waves rise troubled
And breathe the air
To the new azure
Of their turbulent lungs,
Curling and introvert
In their wet work
Until the almost perfect
Curve of the rolling surf
Slips from the form and balance
Of its clothes
And seeks abandon
In bubble
And white water surge:
All its energy fragmented
And absorbed
In the froth and melee
Of interface.

© Ben Truesdale and distilledvoice, 2015.

Mottisfont Brown Trout

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Lazy in the shallow stream,
Silken bellies tickling
The golden gravel.
Heads toward clarity
And clean new
Flush of gills,
Absorbent and capturing.
With but a gentle pulse
To keep stillness,
The shoal mimics
The sinusoidal weed,
In greens scribing wellings
And turbulence
Fingering the sinuous flow:
And leisurely,
They face forever
And the sweet taste
Of always coming,
Always there,
Always flowing,
Always there,
And the tranquil
Cool beginnings
In every moment.

© Ben Truesdale and distilledvoice, 2015.

Bees Are Litmus To The Land

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Bees are litmus to the land.
In their contentment
Is our milk
And sustenance,
For they are single minded
In nature’s plan
Of balance in the gathering:
Their Society
For the benefit of all within,
And kin and neighbours too
Are thus glad
For their best harvesting.

Bees are litmus.
They speak now
About man
On Earth.

© Ben Truesdale and distilledvoice, 2015.

Late Afternoon At The Beach

~ distilledvoice ~ Leave a comment

Late afternoon
Refracts and alters
The sea from blue-scape
Of cool, dark wandering,

To a surface of captured sea-light,
Spliced by wave flux
To an oscillating multitude
Of angles:

And from it rises haze
In subtle smudge
And salt puff,
Driven above the surge,

Ascending as the outer edge
Of the visible wave,
To high spirit
And fine distillate

Of seawater ether,
Energised beyond
Dense form
And made buoyant

On air’s
Much lighter,
Transitory
Substance.

© Ben Truesdale and distilledvoice, 2015.