Yesterday’s freezer has become
Today’s allocation of time,
No matter how much of it there is
There’s never enough to climb
Up to the summit, crest the wave,
To clear the endless email list,
To finish every job and task
Required to win the day, what bliss!
It’s been a busy day at the start of a busy week (I’m not complaining, in truth I like it this way!)
(11.05.26)
© Ben Quant 2026
Photo by Kerensa Pickett on Unsplash
The lure of mystery,
of hidden secrets layered,
deep beneath the surface.
The possibility of
threat and treasure leading
to wisdom’s epiphany.
Of gripping pulp adventures
epic expeditions,
and eldritch beasts to better.
But which do I get to face?
To pit my strength against
and struggle to resolve?
The puzzle of why there’s never
room within the freezer
no matter what’s removed…
A truth that applies to all forms of storage…
(10.05.26)
© Ben Quant 2026
Photo by Ben McCloskey on Unsplash
A refreshing summer stroll along the banks
of London’s Tap, the City’s river, bringing
water for the masses. The sun is out.
A gentle mandarin duck shows off her chicks,
a proud and tidy mother with her brood.
A cormorant smiles to show appreciation.
Winged insects dance above the flow amongst
the fuzzy seeds that snag upon sharp branches.
Alongside we walk and for a moment breathe.
This afternoon we enjoyed a lovely wander along the Enfield stretch of the New River Walk.
(09.05.26)
© Ben Quant 2026
Day after the count
My eyes are blurry, brain dead
Fetch more coffee! Now!
At Broxbourne’s count until the wee hours last night. Gripping stuff but exhausting.
(08.05.26)
© Ben Quant 2026
Photo by Sander Sammy on Unsplash
Election day today and so
I place a cross inside a box.
As I grip the stubby pencil
it brings to mind another choice,
not in a temporary booth tucked in
a deserted primary school like this,
but outside a dusty city wall
where hung a man who cast his vote,
a cross marked with his crimson love.
His vote? A vote for all: for strangers,
friends and enemies, for those
we chose to love, and those we chose
to hate, and those we do not see.
A vote with open arms and cast
with generous vulnerability.
Placing my cross inside a box
I pray I won’t do that with his.
It’s the local elections today and it will be fascinating to see how they pan out, it all feels very different from usual. As seems to so often be the case, how we perceive and treat those who are different from ourselves seems to be very much an issue.
(07.05.26)
© Ben Quant 2026
Photo by Phil Hearing on Unsplash
‘Sit still’ she said and went behind
me to investigate. A sharp
intake of breath. ‘This is not good,’
she uttered, ‘but do not be alarmed.’
A look of utter concentration.
She raised some pliers to my neck
and clenched her tongue between her teeth,
and started to repair defects.
The room went silent and all zoomed in
upon that point of crisis where
she worked. A range of focused grunts
accompanied her efforts. Care-
fully she reached for varied tools,
a saw, a wrench, hammer and drill
sometimes even two at once
and worked with dreadful haste until
exclaiming, ‘It is fixed!’ Stepping
back to view her handiwork
she placed her plastic tools aside
and called her Mum to come and look.
Mum just smiled and winked at me,
‘Her dad fancies himself as a bit
of a handyman,’ she laughed until…
she swung a wrench and hit her knee!
Toddler group today and the toy tools were out. Towards the end I became the source of quite an operation.
(06.05.26)
© Ben Quant 2026
Photo by benjamin lehman on Unsplash
Tonight my brain is stuck
On simple silly rhymes
Nothing profound or deep
Presents itself this time
No inspiration tonight, and having Have I Got News For You on in the background isn’t helping…
(05.05.26)
© Ben Quant 2026
Photo by Nick Fewings on Unsplash
Sunday evening, sat in church praying,
Our stumbling voices stutter to
A halt, uncertain of how to talk.
Sitting uncertain in our circle,
We’re startled from staring at our feet
When suddenly a new voice speaks –
A jubilant robin, his joyous song
Penetrating the awkward silence
Sounding loudly inside our sanctuary.
His trilling tongue entices us;
A Jacob’s Ladder leading from heaven
To lift us to the Lord above.
His notes remove the massing gloom
And melody delights and lifts us;
Before too long we find our voices.
In Sunday’s evening service we were treated to a beautiful solo.
(04.05.26)
© Ben Quant 2026
Photo by Josh Applegate on Unsplash
This tunnel through the spongy dark
reveals a flattened hazy realm.
The light is fuzzy, indistinct, and
sudden peripheral interruptions
sharply protrude from either flank.
Beyond remains alert, unknown.
I drive on through this foreign land
aware that I’m intruding here.
The halo follows me but as
we move the blackness rushes in,
devouring what is left behind.
I am an island in the night
fearful of moving fast and worried
of what might happen if I stop.
I drove up to my Dad tonight. The last miles are across country, down unlight country roads, which in the dark begins strangely sentient.
(03.05.26)
© Ben Quant 2026
Photo by Philipp Katzenberger on Unsplash
Stationary upon its scaffolding pole,
The cowled jackdaw keeps its eery stare,
An ancient watch atop a modern perch.
Its mate descends to claim a cold partner;
A twitch of midnight feathers and it too
Stands still, two beaks in frozen parallel.
I turn to look with them, wondering what
They watch so motionless. I can not tell;
What plane do these four focused eyes perceive?
I shudder sensing that they see elsewhere,
Penetrating flesh and blood and bones
Perceiving naked souls hiding within.
The house behind ours is currently having an extension built and the local jackdaws have abandoned our trees for the tops of its scaffolding poles.
(02.05.26)
© Ben Quant 2026
Photo by Daniil Komov on Unsplash
Ode for the Day 