The joy of getting
All the way
And discovering that
We can get back!
A new electric car has eliminated our range anxiety
(08.02.25)
© Ben Quant 2025
Month: Feb 2025
Poem 419 – Eyes
I have two eyes.
They’re the only eyes
I’ve ever had.
My eyes are hazel.
My eyes are white,
My eyes are male,
And middle class.
I wonder what
I’d look like with
Two different ones?
I wonder how
I’d see the world
And how the world
would see me if
My eyes were black,
My eyes were gay
My eyes were female
My eyes were rich
Or working class?
I have two eyes.
They’re the only eyes
I’ve ever had
I must remember
That they come
In different types
And mine are mine alone.
It’s been a fascinating day spent with people of a whole range of cultures and backgrounds.
(07.02.25)
Poem 418 – A Smile
I’m not so sure she actually knew
Just why she smiled, but it didn’t matter.
Her smile said it was okay to continue,
Her smile revealed a connection,
Her smile said she was on my side.
I smiled back and carried on.
Afterwards we sat together over
A cup of tea and cake and talked
About large families and names.
She said she’s good with them, ‘I’m not’
I replied, ‘so tell me yours again.’
She laughed and smiled that smile once more.
Cups drained, ‘It’s time to go’, I said
She waved as she was wheeled away,
Smiling a farewell smile, ‘I’ve got
A large family you know’, she revealed.
It didn’t matter. The smile had told
Me all that I had needed to know.
I met K**** today at a service at our local nursing home. It was a chaotic affair as usual, with folk coming and going, and heckling or simply crying out. I don’t mind that too much, I’ve learnt to look for other clues that tell me that it’s worthwhile.
(06.02.25)
© Ben Quant 2025
Photo by Lesly Juarez on Unsplash
Poem 417 – Welcome to the Neighbourhood
We’ve seen the rubble,
The shattered lives
And hospitals.
We’ve seen demolished
Dreams, and
Universities.
Good news my friend,
We have decided
To lend a hand.
Let us take over;
Kick back your feet,
Relax and sleep,
While we send in
The bulldozers
To build a mall,
Hotels that gleam,
Landscaping and
A golfing green.
What’s that you say?
Don’t worry about,
Just where you’ll live.
I’m sure someone
Will put you up
Somewhere, somewhen,
And hopefully,
When they do,
You’ll have a good view,
Of our brand new,
gleaming neighbourhood.
An instinctive response to Trump’s latest declaration.
(05.02.25)
© Ben Quant 2025
Photo by Courtney Cook on Unsplash
Poem 416 – Enough
I’ve sat here for a while and have concluded
that today I haven’t much to say.
I’ve answered emails, shared a lunch, and helped at
food bank. It’s been a fairly ordinary day.
The company’s been good, the job’s been done
but nothing to write home about, or write
a poem about. I haven’t had profound
thoughts or ecstatic moments but it’s been alright.
The everyday is not to be rebuffed,
sometimes the ordinary is enough.
It’s been a fairly standard day, and you know what? That’s fine.
(04.02.25)
Poem 415 – Completed
I have been made complete, moulded by my maker.
I am an image bearer, bearing his image in my body.
With care my character will carry his within it;
reflecting the family face in my visage,
his will and wants within my walk.
But man is not the mirrored, only the mirror;
I must not imagine I am him,
for in imagining this I become an idol.
For I am not complete unless I live in him
for only in his affection can I finally find my home.
As local ministers we meet once a month to reflect together on a book. We’ve started with ‘The Unhurried Pastor’ by Brian Croft and Ronnie Martin, and our conversation today about being limited beings, who find completion in him and his provision, led to this alliterative verse.
(03.02.25)
© Ben Quant 2025
Photo by Laurenz Kleinheider on Unsplash
Poem 414 – The Conversation of the Birds
The conversation of the birds echoes
beneath the ancient woodland canopy.
We turn our searching eyes upwards to check on
the source of these trill tongues, but alas, they flee.
A hint of movement flits amongst the leaves,
a trace of colour or suggestive shape:
the twitching of the leaves caught in the breeze
or shadow of the bird as it escapes?
We close our eyes and stand as still as we
are able to and try to disappear,
perhaps our feathered friends will sense our plea,
and stepping forwards, finally lose their fear.
In time the individuals will emerge,
if you attend to the conversation of the birds.
Birdwatching in the woods can be a frustrating affair, so often they remain out of sight, but careful listening can lead to individuals appearing from the chorus.
(02.02.25)
© Ben Quant 2025
Photo by Tom Bradley on Unsplash
(Edit: swapped the last two lines around, much better for this simple switch! 03.03.23)
Poem 413 – Hertfordshire Chain Walk Pt. 3
In wonder, we walk these woodland worlds,
That groan beneath green garlands of moss.
This verdant dressing, vivid and vibrant,
Drapes the boughs and cloaks their branches.
Tacking across our track, a trickling
Stream carves stripes into our path,
Whilst, circling up above, black corvids
Caw at red kites above the castle.
Is this a place where faeries frolic,
Fearless in their velvet kingdom?
Today we walked the third chain of the Hertfordshire Chain Walk (we’re going back to do the second another day). At times the landscape was quite magical.
(01.02.25)
© Ben Quant 2025
Ode for the Day 