So creeps the frond
Of delicate, intricate life.
Architectural feather forms
Crystallising from mystery,
Enlivened by light inspired
In realness inhabited.
Ben Truesdale and distilledvoice, 2016
short poem
Pure
The pure thought
In blossoms open
Upon the branch
Nothing but this
In blue sky and air
As fresh as newness birthed.
Ben Truesdale and distilledvoice, 2016
Living Myth
The incomprehensible bud
Unsheathed of winter,
Awaits
Unbelievable expansion
In to the living myth of spring.
Ben Truesdale and distilledvoice, 2016
Geometrics
In the emptiness
Of geometrics
There is peace
In the mind’s line.
Copyright 2016 Ben Truesdale & distilledvoice
for and inspired by theo chalmers http://www.theochalmers.com
Blue Elation
Lone cloud
In nothing but blue elation.
Copyright 2016 Ben Truesdale & distilledvoice
On Winter Wing
Birds
Wet wing above
The scrub and stick
Of winter shrub
And leafless tree
Surfing
The rush and gust
And invisible bluffs
Warping sky’s
Endless grey.
© Ben Truesdale and distilledvoice, 2015
Cycle
Last years
Sodden relic
Browns in decrepitude
And skeletal memory.
Next years
Tightly packed,
Protected shoot
Waits in green expectancy.
© Ben Truesdale and distilledvoice, 2015
Effortless
Under blue-grey clouds
Red kites find
Effortless updrafts
© Ben Truesdale and distilledvoice, 2015
distilledvoice 