This mighty edifice imposes itself upon
the horizon, a brutal slab of stone. It thrusts
into the sky distorting gravity;
we stand before its feet and sway.
Above an array of monarchs, saints and grotesques
stare down at us, distorted faces worn
by age and weather. Their bulging eyes follow
our fleeting lives that form and fade with the wind.
For the last few days, York Minister has been the dramatic backdrop to our lives, what an amazing building.
(20.02.26)
© Ben Quant 2026
The stone’s released;
two staring eyes,
are fixed on the target.
I’m gripped by the drama,
ensnared by the tension,
and oscillating
advantage. It starts
to bend and curl
and turn until…
Crack! The perfect
ricochet.
I’ve never watched curling before tonight’s Olympic men’s semi-final between Great Britain and Switzerland. Totally transfixed by it.
(19.02.26)
© Ben Quant 2026
Photo by Immo Wegmann on Unsplash
It’s cold, bitterly cold, but nothing that
steak pie and mash won’t fix along with coffee.
We sit, replete and beginning to glow, and smile
at love and friendship grown over a life-
time spent together. It’s been a day spent tracking
those who’ve walked that ancient way before us,
who intertwined and merged to form the trunk
and spreading branches of our tree. We take
our place and, longing, reach up to the sun.
It’s been a fun day exploring places my wife’s family came from and enjoying each other’s company. The photo is of Selby Abbey where one ancestor was baptised.
(18.02.26)
© Ben Quant 2026
The simple joy of conversation,
Exploring questions, scaling perspectives,
Rowing down lost rivers of memory
And seeking treasures of connection.
Another quick poem at the end of busy day that finished with a lovely evening chatting with Dad.
(17.02.26)
© Ben Quant 2026
Photo by Metin Ozer on Unsplash
Bad weather threatens,
Will it rain on our parade?
Gentleness saves us.
Some tricky pastoral situations today averted through the application of prayer and gentleness.
(16.02.26)
© Ben Quant 2026
Photo by Shlomo Shalev on Unsplash
Wanted. A renegade poem on the run.
Evading capture and identification,
it slips through my fingers whenever I
reach out to grasp it. Tantalisingly close,
its form remains disguised, its words elusive.
I chase it down abandoned stanzas, past
forgotten metaphors. In dreams I glimpse
it but on waking it remains obscured,
lost in half formed kaleidoscopic snatches,
seen only on the periphery of thought.
I had no idea what to write about today, and so that is what I wrote about.
(15.02.26)
© Ben Quant 2026
Photo by Vivasa Michael Parlow on Unsplash
The monuments of modernity stand upon
her ancient paths, a maze of old and new.
We walk its ways and marvel at a myriad
of serendipitous finds and juxtaposition.
Amongst its mighty towers lurk the docks
of yesteryear, those ghostly shades that haunt
the shadows of today. Lost sailors swearing
mingle with the traffic and creaking masts
join with her driverless trains and thronging shops.
Overhead the timeless seagulls call.
We returned to Canary Wharf today for a lovely Valentine’s lunch and wander around the Docklands Museum.
(14.02.26)
The M25,
One wave of its wand can turn
Four hours into six
Too brain dead for anything more original tonight!
(13.02.26)
© Ben Quant 2026
Photo by Szabolcs Antal on Unsplash
Gridlocked motorways
Stormy weather past Stonehenge
Winding country lanes
Praying the roads are clear
Dodging pot holes and branches
Don’t make me reverse!
Battery running low
Hoping that the charger works…
Big sighs of relief!
Helping lead a retreat for the Sierra Leone Mission today meant a long and early motorway drive to just beyond Exeter.
(12.02.26)
© Ben Quant 2026
Tomorrow I’ll be
Dreaming of African skies
Remembering friends
Tomorrow I’m heading off to join friends in the Sierra Leone Mission to reflect on their vision for the future – brings back good memories.
(11.02.26)
© Ben Quant 2026
Ode for the Day 