photograph

While The Sun Set

~ distilledvoice ~ Leave a comment

While the sun set

Our thoughts got caught

In the sticky thorns

Of the news

And we all remarked

On how terrible it was.

–

And as the sky became redder

And wider and filled

With darting bugs,

Feasting bats upon the wing,

We said it was a travesty.

–

And when the moon,

A slither in the vastness

Of horizons broad as beginnings,

Slipped from behind an effortless cloud,

We continued with our worrying stories.

–

And at last, with but a pale glimmer

At the most western face of the day,

The final moment

When night was not yet night

And day still held sway,

We woke up,

Realised everything was alright

And that life was in fact joyous.

A Dove Coos

~ distilledvoice ~ Leave a comment

A dove coos

In the the bell tower,

Soft and throaty

And warm

For the chicks

Loved in to the nest.

–

The Scots pine,

Lofty in the graveyard,

Stands still and magnificent

Exuding presence,

Shining with silence

And oblivious of time.

–

The woodland,

Dotted with ewes

And skewed graves stones

Chatters

In warble and whistle.

In the canopy

Birds flap and flutter unseen.

May Rain

~ distilledvoice ~ Leave a comment

The sky breathes

Moist upon the land,

Kisses the newness

Of just-unfurled leaves,

Liquefying the air

Until dew drop and rain drop

Dampen tree bark

With dark mottled absorbency,

And the haze of cow parsley

Scents the sky’s earthward reach

With its Milky Way.

Shriller and lubricated,

Bird call conducted

Through the denser fluid,

Cuts the sweet cloak

Of draping mist,

Amplified inside

The descended cloud,

Defined by its weight

And closeness.

And from the delicate canopy,

Born in perfect verdancy,

Coalesced drops patter,

Splatting loose and percussive

Upon fresh nettle leaves

Yearning for light.

Photographer

~ distilledvoice ~ 4 Comments

In the moistened autumn air

Morning time is late,

Shuffling from the lengthening night

Through swathes of disintegrating leaves

Let loose the life that gripped

So urgent and productive

To branches now revealed.






Rooks craw in skeletal beech





Where only a smattering of bronze





Tenacious leaf, still reluctant





In the wind, cling jewel-like





And fluttering. And other birds





Pick at the glut of berries





With the needle of their song.










Somewhere in this,





Where the sky morphs





And reveals and holds





The whole landscape,





Walks the photographer,





Drinking in the all that he perceives,





Almost convulsing





With each perspective seen,





Almost pained by the utter beauty





Unfolding in fleeting perfections,





That even if time were his to own,





He could never hope to capture.






			

	


				
					


	

			
Dripping Auburn Golds
		

				

						 ~ distilledvoice			 ~ 5 Comments					

				

		



The world is dripping




Browns and auburn golds




As russet leaves, untethered




From life’s lunge and thrust




– Summer’s widened light –




Let loose the season’s




Fall, in energy unclasping




The matter made,




As all shrinks away




And narrows toward formlessness.

			

	


				
					


				
					


	

			
The Sky Is Blue
		

				

						 ~ distilledvoice			 ~ Leave a comment					

				

		






The sky is blue





And deep





And impenetrable,





Absorbing my gaze





Which finds no purchase





In its azure nothingness,





Finds nothing





But lazuline, cerulean flawless flatness,





In which the cumulous materialise,





Condense in forever morphing forms;





There in expansion or contraction





Wispiness or burdensome bruising





Clotting before rain drops are birthed,





Or reconsidered by the air’s





Subtle hold, and withdrawn





Into the invisibility of blueness





And the dimensionless constant





Reaching beyond the reaching mind.










ⓒBen Truesdale f2020

			

	


				
					


				
					


				
					


	

			
Lights Of March
		

				

						 ~ distilledvoice			 ~ 1 Comment					

				

		
 


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Softly treads March

Upon the sun-warmed earth:

A new green pallet

Strewn in daplings

Beneath trees

Still winter shod

But bearing

Blue sky and bud.

And Beneath:

A brief trumpeting

Of yellowness

Before the sky shades

With a canopy of leaf.


©Ben Truesdale and distilledvoice, 2017