Blousy white
and as pure as skin
silken and finely woven
from a pure thought
the flower bleeds
jasmin scent
as the purfume bleeds
its distillate
and blossoming
is mind and body
arriving to the flush
of a sweet capturing
mood, alight
the breath of being
and the forceful pulse
Of the procreational moon.


© Ben Truesdale and distilledvoice

In The Rose


Nose first
And all the body
Thrust after it,
For I go
Gladly to the rose’s
Soft flesh,
Plunge myself within
To be enveloped
Wholly in petal silk
And scents of dreams,
Sweet as the loveliest
Material or lovers skin
Impregnated with sunshine,
Fine nectars, oils and essences.

For a moment I am lost,
Dipped as I am
In relaxation
Of all but the only sense in the world:
The pure thing found
In candied whorl
Of the rose’s
Delicate unwind
And fragrant shimmering.

© Ben Truesdale and distilledvoice, 2015