Month: Jan 2026

Poem 763 – The Traitors Shields

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To steal, or not to steal, that is the question:
Whether ’tis better to grasp immunity
And run the risk of being banished, or
To face the blows of traitors’ bows and arrows?
Which fearful fate is worse: to walk or sleep;
The paranoia of the table or
The letter on the chair that passive slays?
Whichever choice is made, the chance is real:
‘Cos other’s hands the dagger doth employ,
Considering options that perchance destroy.

Loving The Traitors again this year, what gripping TV.
(16.01.26)

© Ben Quant 2026
Photo by Albert Stoynov on Unsplash

Poem 761 – The Cultural Pot

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The circling critics mass with clicking keys,
headlines angrily declaring that,
the multicultural culinary dish is dead.
They clearly haven’t tried our bubble and squeak.

Today a Brit, a Turk and a Kuwaiti worked
together, serving food to English neighbours.
Their dishes? Cuisine cooked from diverse cultures,
a blend of ingredients derived from different nations.

And as they did they shared from a common pot
of love and conversation. Send them home?
If we did, we’d find we’re left with silence, vacant
plates and empty hearts; a menu of empty lines.

I had a lovely afternoon today working at our foodbank with two volunteers both of whom have come from our Conversation Cafe for those who speak English and a second language.
(14.01.26)

© Ben Quant 2026

Poem 760 – Residents

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A tall gentleman pacing around in circuits,
A woman being wheeled past, who smiles and waves,
A book of Dad jokes, sometimes inappropriate,
A carer noticing the unnoticed,
The groaning of a ghost in an upstairs corridor,
A visitor, uncertain of where to go,
Loved ones, and those who can see beyond their years,
A manager who makes this home a home.

A snapshot from today.
(13.01.26)

© Ben Quant 2026
Photo by Age Cymru on Unsplash

Poem 757 – Today

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Some days we do amazing things:
mend broken hearts, help those in need,
and make the world a better place.

Some days I reach that perfect note,
and find a satisfying rhyme or
fly faster or further on my bike.

Today is not that day.

Today I tarried in my bed,
then read a book and tidied up,
and finally did some shopping.

Enjoyed a mundane day today when nothing exceptional happened. Sometimes that is perfect.
(10.01.26)

© Ben Quant 2026
Photo by Blaz Photo on Unsplash

Poem 756 – The Way

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Amidst the chaos there lies a line.
It weaves a way, a golden thread
of grace, not chalk or string, through life’s
varied and unpredictable maze.

A fragile thing, at first it seems
too fine, invisible and prone,
and yet, persistent, it somehow snakes
through life’s ragged ups and downs.

A golden thread that is not precious,
that rolls up its well worn sleeves,
knows life in all its care and messiness,
that dares to tread the dangerous street.

It does not force, or bend, or break,
it simply finds a way for feet to trace
when eyes are dark, imagination
spent. This path is known as love.

It’s been a week of trying to find a way through some tricky pastoral situations.
(09.01.26)

© Ben Quant 2026
Photo by Vasilica Ciocan on Unsplash

Poem 755 – Storm Goretti

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Water sloshes from the sky like ocean waves
Crashing recklessly over the pavements,
Whilst rivers run, white rapids down the roads,
Tumbling torrents full of energy.

Crashing recklessly over the pavements,
Flushing the world within its hungry wake,
The storm’s a torrent full of energy,
A hungry deluge devouring the darkened sky.

Flushing the world within its hungry wake,
The urgent raindrops drum incessantly,
A hungry deluge devouring the darkened sky
Whilst sunshine hides its light in guilty shame.

The urgent raindrops drum incessantly
As rivers run, white rapids down the roads.
The sunshine hides its light in guilty shame
Whilst water sloshes from the sky in waves.

I enjoyed writing the pantoum a couple of days ago, and so thought I’d try another on this rainy day.
(08.01.26)

© Ben Quant 2026
Photo by Kostiantyn Li on Unsplash