By hapless chance
Or fine design
Bees are miraculous.
In the scheme of being,
Created Nevertheless.
© Ben Truesdale and distilledvoice, 2015.
photography
Summer Breeze
Summer breeze
Gentle in the leaf tips,
Rustling silver in the sun,
Playful as the lovers
Whose bough-bodies bend
And flex below:
Their hair too
Is wind tussled.
© Ben Truesdale and distilledvoice, 2015.
Bees On Lavender
To each fine
Ripe strand
And purple
Crowning wand,
Alight the
Balance of bees,
In gentle weight
And measurement,
As stalks bow reverent
In ease.
© Ben Truesdale and distilledvoice, 2015.
Delicate Grass
Delicate species:
So light and feathery
In the air
With filamentous thoughts
To touch the breeze
And call from it music
And the swishing
Of sibilant verse:
Its delicate fingers
To the wind’s instrument,
To feel and disperse
And cast its seed-spec progeny.
© Ben Truesdale and distilledvoice, 2015.
Dedicated to Emma Bullet https://emmabullet.wordpress.com
Summer Lavender
Lavender,
In silvery swathes
Of purple spires,
Marks midsummer
With every scented
Brush-past.
© Ben Truesdale and distilledvoice, 2015.
Receiver Of Poems
I don’t know how to write poems.
I only know the place where they emerge,
As urges clothed in the form of words.
And there in a sacred place
I collect the words like ripe apples
Plucked straight from the tree:
Gifts I have neither planted nor tended,
Just simply received.
© Ben Truesdale and distilledvoice, 2015.
Despite The Tumult
Despite the tumult
Of the clouds,
The erratic moods,
The distractions
And the cauldron of emotions
Fitful and bubbling,
There dwells always the sun
And the blue sky,
Fresh as warmth upon your skin
And a summer morning’s in-breath,
Waiting, behind it all
For your homeward bound
Acknowledgement.
© Ben Truesdale and distilledvoice, 2015.
When I Look At Art
When I look at art
I’m looking
For the gliding truth
To slice the mediocrity of life
And expose
The pure, clear moment,
The glowing wow,
The real thing,
The something said,
The revelation in my head,
The satisfaction, soul deep,
As I understand
And see
The thing
As it was meant.
© Ben Truesdale and distilledvoice, 2015.
Artists Are One
So many yearning
For the artists life,
Each and every one of us
Posting our dreams
To the greater dream
In the outer dream of the internet.
But I am roused.
I am roused for I am one in many
As you are one in many.
We speak the same language
And slip stream on the same energy,
Surf the lip of love
That curls endlessly on.
We will not drown in clamour.
There are not too many
For we are the many in the mind
And the mind is one.
And the one
Is wellpool
Of richness, integrity
And Infinity anew:
Anew
As each one of us
Lives closer
To the who
We really are.
© Ben Truesdale and distilledvoice, 2015.
Irresistible
Light
Beams
Irresistibly.
© Ben Truesdale and distilledvoice, 2015.
distilledvoice 