Plane trails bisect the midday sky;
The blue is cleaved in two. We sit.
Below the whole world sleeps,
Even the birds are silent and still.
At a family gathering today, sitting outside seeking shade.
(12.07.25)
© Ben Quant 2025
Photo by Cadu de Castro Alves on Unsplash
A clash of wheels and crash of bikes,
As cyclists slide and the peleton crumples.
Collarbones snap as bodies fly,
Time stands still while bike frames cartwheel.
The road fights back and tarmac argues,
Sharp gravel causes sparking metal.
A country stops and holds its breath
And anxious, waits for dust to settle.
Another gripping day in the Tour, but with a brutal crash.
(11.07.25)
© Ben Quant 2025
Photo by Mathias Reding on Unsplash
More poems on le Tour you say?
It may have to wait another day.
It’s too hot you see, too hot for me,
I don’t know how they do it!
Relentless peddling in the heat
Remorselessly chasing as they compete
For the yellow jersey, at the end of the journey,
As only one can don it!
Yesterday’s poem provoked the comment that there should be more poems on the Tour de France. A silly response at the end of a hot day.
(10.07.25)
© Ben Quant 2025
Photo by Christian Chrome on Unsplash
Djamolidine Abdoujaparov,
LeMond and Bernard Hinault,
Sean Kelly, Yates and Robert Miller,
Pantani, Eddy Merckx, Jens Voight
Mark Cavendish, Boardman, Stephen Roach,
Geriant Thomas, Thomas Voeckler,
Cipollini, Induráin,
These names are framed within my mind
True heroes of the peleton
Some of the cyclists on the Tour de France whose wonderful names and heroics will always remain with me.
(09.07.25)
© Ben Quant 2025
Photo by Stefan Scheepmaker on Unsplash
Today we heard that
A simple smile can transform
The lives of others
Attended the funeral today of the letter of our children’s preschool. A wonderful woman who was a legend in our house.
(08.07.25)
© Ben Quant 2025
Photo by Aziz Acharki on Unsplash
Le Tour has started
With its spills and its thrills,
Broom wagons, bunch sprints,
Great rivalries, myths.
The peleton charges
For mile upon mile,
Up impossible climbs,
Down crazy descents.
And as a result
I’m somewhat distracted
When watching the highlights
This poem must stop.
My daily rhymes might become a little more perfunctory over the next few weeks…
(07.07.25)
Sometimes it takes a drought to value water
Poverty to recognize our wealth,
Barrenness to celebrate the harvest,
The heat to appreciate the cold.
I do not pray to be afflicted,
I can’t believe that’s how you work,
But when those times come, as they will,
I pray that I will learn and grow.
Reflections from this evening’s service.
(06.07.25)
© Ben Quant 2025
Photo by Maud CORREA on Unsplash
‘When I was in Morocco’,
You’ve often heard me start,
Recalling long ago,
My adventures of the past.
I haggled in the souk,
Swapped tales in Marrakesh,
I walked forgotten routes,
Put physics to the test.
I fought with crazy gangsters,
Chased Nazis on train tops,
Sought fabled ancient treasures
And secrets time had lost.
I faced my deepest fears,
In pits of writhing snakes,
And crossed precarious wings
On acrobatic planes.
I navigated maps,
Acquired through games of chance,
Survived the booby traps
And puzzles of the past.
But now I’m getting old,
I’m told those days are gone,
But in memories I’m still bold,
And in dreams, they still live on.
Watching the final Indiana Jones film tonight, it merged with my father’s ‘infamous’ stories of his time in Morocco.
(05.07.25)
© Ben Quant 2025
Your smell alone restores
Your taste invigorates
My lagging brain demands
A hit that stimulates
Your smoothness on my tongue
And heat reaching my heart
I was feeling undone
But now I can restart
Driving home late after a long couple of days. Had to stop for a caffeine kick…
(04.07.25)
It was operation day today.
It is the way of such things
That everybody says it will be
Okay, and everyone acts
Relaxed. But try as one may,
The truth is, worry is natural,
And no one’s at ease or easily
Pleased until the call is made.
But seeing that her smile at the end
Of the day was enough to make
Him smile in return, now that
was enough for me.
A day spent waiting on a call from the hospital.
(03.07.25)
Ode for the Day 