Amongst Canary Wharf’s tall colonnades
we pause, transformed by dancing neon lights.
These bright kaleidoscopes of colour cause
the crowd in awe to stop and forget the world;
until the world joins in. The moon, full glow,
erupts to snatch the glory and the night.
Just back from a wonderful evening exploring the annual Winter Lights
(31.01.26)
© Ben Quant 2026
Mexican stand-off
Three guns, three lives, one heartbeat
Uncertain outcome
Watching the new series of The Night Manager. I don’t think everyone is going to make it… (No spoilers on the Mexican Stand-Off, that’s not happened, at least not yet!)
(30.01.26)
© Ben Quant 2026
Photo by Martin SoulStealer via CC BY-NC-ND 2.0
Flapping up high in the sycamore leaves,
Black Feather perches in the breeze.
An eye on the weather, an eye on the floor,
Black Feather watches with a wink and a caw.
A thought for the lonely who stand just as he,
a thought for the brook, for the hedge and the tree.
A thought for the orphan, a thought for the sick,
a thought for the sad as he gathered up twigs.
Black as the as darkest cave, black as the sea,
black as the sin that stains you and me.
He sees it all from his post in the sky,
Black Feather cries as he wonders why.
Just watched the first episode of Mackenzie Crook’s Worzel Gummidge, and found myself trying to write a poem that evoked an English folk saying about crows.
(29.01.26)
© Ben Quant 2026
Photo by Semyon Borisov on Unsplash
Monday’s mist has crept into my brain’s
recesses, sneaked into the sulci and found
itself at home within these thoughtful folds.
Now settled in, it’s sapped my synapses,
ground down the grey cells, dulled imagination,
leaving me with just a sudden sneeze!!!!
I seem to have developed a cold…
(28.01.26)
© Ben Quant 2026
Photo by Towfiqu barbhuiya on Unsplash
Amidst life’s chaos, finding the familiar
can give an anchor that may brace us from
the ravages of randomness. These rage
against us and chip away our certainty
and sense of self. But home asserts itself,
gently assuring us of place and purpose.
Been home with Dad for a few days.
(27.01.26)
© Ben Quant 2026
Photo by Rowan Heuvel on Unsplash
The sky’s translucent. A milky haze of mist
gives substance to the air, a thin and sloppy
semolina. It cloaks us and the land
beneath our feet. I shiver bitterly.
Beside this winter garb, the earth is bare,
with not a bloom or waking bud in sight.
Standing mutely watching us go past,
the sheep appear resigned, their fleeces stained.
Above, a glider sails the milky sea.
It moves in circles, like a silent bird
of prey, only it never swoops. Below,
I turn my collar up and press on home.
Went for a walk around my parents’ house today. Lovely, but it’s taken much of the rest of the day to warm up again!
(26.01.26)
It was only the size of a postage stamp,
a pixelated blur that came and went
with sound that didn’t match the picture,
but it was a kind of magic back then.
Transported to your Surrey garden,
six-hundred thousand strangers streamed
down phone lines crossing continents
into this tiny buffering barn.
We held our breath and squeezed into
that distant doorway, willed the image
to appear until its spluttering
sounds and colours burst to life.
In awe we cheered distorted sounds,
squinting to make you out across
the many miles that lay between us,
clapping, we hoped, in unison.
Could we be hyperlinked? Connected
through our screens? It seemed surreal.
But now HD, the wonder’s leeched
become mundane and yesterday.
I’ve been working on a painfully slow internet connection today. This reminded me of watching Roger Taylor’s record-breaking concert ‘Live at the Cyberbarn’ on dial up internet. How quickly things have changed!
(See: https://www.rogertaylor.info/facts-and-trivia/accolades/the-guinness-book-of-records/)
(25.01.26)
© Ben Quant 2026
Turned off the M4
Promptly the rain starts to fall
No surprises there!
Visiting our daughter.
(24.01.26)
© Ben Quant 2026
Photo by Sebastiano Piazzi on Unsplash
The winding week is done, its work is over
The veiling night draws near, now dim the light
Its time to take account of all its triumphs
And put its problems prayerfully aside
Once ready, rest awhile and rediscover
That peaceful place that every person needs
Recall your core, your heart, your cornerstone
And gladly let the God of grace within
It’s Friday night!
(23.01.26)
© Ben Quant 2026
Photo by Giorgio Trovato on Unsplash
The knights are gathered
With swords unsheathed
A castle divided
Round table split
Plans have been hatched
The end comes soon
Destruction draws near
Its seeds have been sown
The Traitor and the Faithful
Are sat in their seats
Mordred and Arthur
But which is which…
Watching the penultimate episode of Traitors with no idea how it’s going to open out…
(22.01.26)
© Ben Quant 2026
Photo by Pascal Bernardon on Unsplash
Ode for the Day 