In your work
I find mine
For my brush
Does seek
The peacock’s flush
And strut
And flares
The more
For your
Flouncing parade,
Your fan crowning,
Colourful display.
© Ben Truesdale and distilledvoice, 2015
painter
The Unfinished Work
Masterpieces
Lie about the house,
Unlocked
And in pieces,
Still prototypes
And foetuses,
Body parts
Without the spark
To impregnate
The seer
And bring them
To the birth
Of the clear
And pure
Idea.
© Ben Truesdale and distilledvoice, 2015
Impressionist
A breath rippling
In the shimmer
Of water found trees,
Like monet-colour
Stippled in flecks
Of light,
Half way between
The indistinguishable
And the brush stroke real.
© Ben Truesdale and distilledvoice, 2015
