Today is timid, a tender movement,
But in its whispered silence sounds
The echo of a crack. Cautious we
We walk amongst the mighty trees
And see a battered bough. Now bent,
It rests its unearthed roots ripped high.
We stop and stand, staying awhile,
To mourn before this fallen friend.
Today we took a walk through Lee Valley. The storms of the last couple of days have quietened, but everything feels tense in case the winds return.
(25.10.26)
© Ben Quant 2026
At this the Earl of Warenne burst out
In furious indignation,
‘You have been turned, there is no doubt,
By Hereward’s machinations.
Why else would you spout forth like this
About our enemy?
Why praise his name, extol his business,
And his victories?
Be silent man, pray shut your mouth,
Belatedly learn wisdom,
Or else I will, without a doubt,
Make punishment my mission.’
‘You’re wrong, good sir,’ Dada replied,
I speak only the truth,
Of what I saw with my own eyes,
Under the rebel’s roof.’
Exaggeration has no place
In this my clear report,
To offer it would bring disgrace,
A promise turned to naught!
I do not seek to offend, my King,
Or to deceive you with false words,
Honesty’s the only gift I bring
Anything else would be absurd!’
The Earl of Warenne rears his head again…
(24.10.26)
© Ben Quant 2026
Photo by Maxwell Andrews on Unsplash
‘Once there they asked me for my name
And the reason for my coming,
I told them for the chance of fame,
And treasure if not succumbing.
I told them of your promise King,
Reward for those who strive
How those who make the Isle would win
A gift from what they find.’
‘But tell me of their greatest men’,
The King at once replied,
‘Their names and strengths and number then
Their defensive works describe.’
‘Their cheifest men, three Earls I met,
Adwinus, Morkere and Tosti,
Two nobles, and many others, yet,
The greatest was my host.
Unrivalled amongst all men I know
In courage and conviction,
And I have travelled high and low
HIs valour is no fiction.’
Dada gives an account of those he found in Ely.
(23.10.26)
At last the day is done!
But won? I don’t know, it’s seemed
A death by a thousand niggles.
The start that set the tone?
Ambushed by traffic lights!
A fight to get things done,
Last minute calls then some…
Who parked that Volvo there!
Beware if I find out…
I doubt you understand
But I could SHOUT!
And yet apocalyptic
Fun and food and traitors
Cap the day. I won.
It’s been one of the days until the end.
(22.10.26)
© Ben Quant 2026
Photo by Samuel Regan-Asante on Unsplash
Somewhere, someone, flicked a switch
and with that twitch the world was dimmed.
The nights drew in, the Sun withdrew,
and piercing rain began to pour.
What’s more, a blanket fell upon
the world around. The sound of bird
song ceased, the seasonal peace that comes
from migrational shift, as noises drift
elsewhere. We draw the curtains and don
warm jerseys and dreams of hibernation.
Suddenly Autumn is upon us. The warmer duvet is on and the heating will soon follow.
(21.10.26)
© Ben Quant 2026
Photo by Daniel Frank on Unsplash
Ngumoha’s dance
Exasperation transformed
Seven goal thriller
Found I could watch tonight’s match and so almost ran out of time to write…
(19.10.16)
© Ben Quant 2026
Photo by Daniel Norin on Unsplash
Arriving home the King rejoiced
To see Dada again.
It wasn’t his gift that made him glad,
His absence had made him sore and sad,
He was one of the finest he’d ever had,
A man of honour and fame.
‘Welcome home, the finest of knights,
Prepare to tell your tale,
Pray tell us of the varied sights
You’ve seen as you’ve travailed!’
‘My Lord, I’ll gladly tell the truth
Of all I’ve seen and heard,
To all sat here beneath your roof,
Come, listen to my words.
By luck I made it to the Isle
Across our wooden path,
So many others lost meanwhile,
This march their very last.
‘Twas I and I alone that made
It to the rebels’ court,
Through swamp and water forced to wade,
And soldiers brave I fought.’
Dada begins to tell of his experiences with Hereward and the rebels.
(19.10.16)
© Ben Quant 2026
Whilst others fought for female freedom,
You took to flight triumphantly,
To prove the point that at a distance,
Male and female merge as one.
And whilst they search for signs of life,
Once lived then lost in dire disaster,
I like to think you rose above,
Our righteous world and flew beyond.
Lost in action, Amelia Earhart,
Famous female aviator.
Inspired by the hunt for Amelia Earhart after possible photographic evidence of her missing plane.
(18.10.26)
© Ben Quant 2026
Photo by Smithsonian on Unsplash
Here angular arches stand, these ancient stones
That strive and stretch. Bare rock; arms steep and tall;
Grey faces faded; stained hard features smoothed
By time and tears. We softly talk then pause.
Eternal echoes ache and throb in endless
Coils that wrap around as gravity tolls
And eras interweave and inward fall.
Here all is altogether and one is all.
I’m currently reading Fiona Robertson’s ‘Stone Lands’ that explores the prehistoric monuments that stand scattered across our nation. I’ve always found such sites strangely magnetic and dense, as if they’re pins that pierce across the ages.
(17.10.26)
© Ben Quant 2026
The alarm sounds, intruding the other world.
At first, resisting, I lie between two states,
An inhabitant of both and citizen of neither.
It’s dark, the autumn night still lingers.
Weary, I rise and stumble down the stairs,
Hiking into an undiscovered land.
Outside is not yet sharp, instead suggested,
An uncertain realm of possibility waiting
To be determined, sharpened by interaction.
I rub my eyes and seek to see the truth.
Slowly the darkness peels away
The spell of night is past, at last the day is come.
Waking today it was dark, the days are shortening.
(16.10.26)
© Ben Quant 2026
Photo by Lukasz Szmigiel on Unsplash
