Dusk Honeysuckle


To the dusk
Flowers put their moods
In scented wafts
On which the eyes might close,
Deferring to the only open sense
Of the tantalised nose,
In which such enrichment
Is found in sweet distillate
Of earth and loam:
The mind somehow
Washed in perfumed sherbet,
Cleaned by something
Made perfect,
Alerted to the essential element
Volatile under the mid summer moon.

© Ben Truesdale and distilledvoice, 2016

The Dream Of The Balancelle


En Francais
Il es une balancelle

In English
A swinging chair

Hung in the languid air
Shaded by the rustling oaks

And caressed
By a honeyed breeze

In to which
The birds twitter

So the mind
Is temperate

As the perfect afternoon
And thoughts

Are spaced
As the young apple

And the quince tree
In the orchard

And time
Is the lolling arm

Let loose
From a snooze

And the comfortable rocking,
Gently to and fro,

Dans le reve
De la balancelle.

© Ben Truesdale and distilledvoice, 2015

Importance Of Swallows

What is more important

Than summer swallows,

Blue on the wing

Hot on the lifting air

Fulfilled by rising insects

Swarming on scents

And invisible particulates:

The blooms of the sky

The language written hieroglyph

And aerodynamic,

And perfectly attuned

To being –              – almost weightless?

© Ben Truesdale and distilledvoice, 2015.


Just saying the word
Is enough to quell
Its worrisome opposite.

You appear
To have swelled in breath
And buoyancy

Around the chest.
And more,
Your face is full

And your eyes
Are lit,
And your smile

Has spread
So a yellow sunrise

And the summer
And you

As much
As you reflect.

© Ben Truesdale and distilledvoice, 2015.

For Mima