Author: BenDQ

Poem 905 – The Ballad of The Wake (pt2)

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Amongst his childhood friends and peers
Young Hereward caused offence,
Both tough in work and rough in play,
He grew in boldness day by day,
Determined to win in every way,
Succeeding at others’ expense.

But through this strife he grew in strength
In arm and leg and chest,
With speed, agility, and thought,
In nimbleness he was never caught,
Overcoming all he fought,
Proving he was the best.

In stature, sturdy and most stout
And handsome in his features
With striking eyes and long blond hair
He strode the land without a care
A burly man built like a bear
Most striking of God’s creatures

A look back at Hereward’s youth
(07.06.26)

© Ben Quant 2026
John Cassell, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons

Poem 904 – The Ballad of The Wake (pt1)

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Here is the tale of Hereward,
The one they call The Wake,
The warrior from the deepest Fen,
Who gathered around him mighty men,
To keep at bay that William,
For precious England’s sake.

A hell-raiser from Lancashire,
He fought against his father,
And wore him down with arguments
And a rebellious streak that wouldn’t relent.
So long this feud was allowed to ferment
That his Father snapped, his clothes he rent,
And with the blessings of good King Ed,
Banished his son to the continent
To rediscover honour.

And so he stormed away in anger
As heat burned in his head,
No kind words to his kin addressed,
No sin he thought should he confess,
He left them in their sore distress
As onwards he did tread.

Inspired by Malcolm Guite’s ‘Galahad and the Grail’, I thought I’d try a similar ‘ballad’ approach to tell the story of Hereward the Wake. This one’s going to take more than a day to write, and so I’m going to post a bit each day as they’re drafted and see where they take me. To be continued…
(06.06.26)

© Ben Quant 2026
John Cassell, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons

Poem 903 – Remove the Pin

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Your furthest reaches are armed with bombs,
clusters of yellowing grenades primed
and ready to launch into the blue.
Anytime now you will release
them, set them free, and watch them fly,
a spinning, twirling, haze of wings.
Your children fly exploding life
wherever they land and pierce the ground.

Nearby trees are suddenly pregnant with sycamore seeds.
(05.06.26)

© Ben Quant 2026

Poem 902 – Vehicular Choices

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The darkening skies amass and wait
for me to mount my bike,
then dump their contents with a laugh
down from the heavens, an unwanted bath,
perhaps I should have chosen a raft
for this elemental fight!

It’s been a day of cycling backwards and forwards to a variety of events, meetings and services. Every time it started to rain…
(04.06.26)

© Ben Quant 2026

Poem 901 – Between the Curtains

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A relocation,
Imagination creation,
Transportation of the senses,
Translation from our world
Into another,
For just one moment
The stage becomes reality,
Reality a stage,
Leaving us transformed.

We went to see Stage Kiss on Tuesday (not the photo), a fantastic show which we thoroughly enjoyed. There’s something about live theatre that has the power to take us elsewhere.
(03.06.26)

© Ben Quant 2026

Poem 900 – The Visit

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Heart beating, nervous, how will you be received?
You tentatively knock upon the waiting door,
How will they react to the life that you’ve conceived?
Will they question what you’ve come here for?
Your years are few, a tender maid, perhaps,
A bud not fully bloomed and yet in you
A seed is laid that one day will climax
Upon a tree and there be proved so true.
And on that day all questions will be yours,
The sky turned black, your future darkened too.
Will it have been worth it, the struggle and the toil,
This life the angel invited you to choose?
But opening the door your cousin’s pregnant too
With joy the unborn child leaps in her womb.

A sonnet for the ‘Feast of Visitation’.
(02.06.26)

© Ben Quant 2026
Photo by Linford Miles on Unsplash

Poem 899 – Devoted

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A precious afternoon
With no prior agenda
Devoted to each other
Listening and reminiscing
About old times, old friends
And sharing time together
‘Cause nothing else matters

An afternoon spent with an old friend whose time with us is drawing to its end.
(01.06.26)

© Ben Quant 2026
Photo by Anne Nygård on Unsplash

Poem 898 – This Lost Realm

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We step into your verdant world,
the air draws near, a heavy still.
In here the outside ceases,
nothing impinges on us but
this present place. Time’s passage pauses.
Your warm breath passes over us
in shades of photosynthesis.
Fallen trunks like tentacles
lie tangled around our foreign feet.
Somewhere a scurry sounds amongst
the leafy undergrowth. Reeds rustle.
Disturbed a flock takes flight.
Footprints fossilised in sunbaked
mud reveal that others pass
this way but none pass by today.
I half-expect a roar of some
tyrannosaur to rend the peace
with bloody teeth and gaping jaw .

A walk around the lakes in Lea Valley today felt like stepping into another world.
(31.05.26)

© Ben Quant 2026

Poem 897 – A Beginner’s Ballad

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I’m trying to write a simple ballad,
A form of rhyming poem,
It uses lines with four accents,
Then three to move without relent,
Mix them together, let them ferment,
And the lines will keep on flowin’.

And now I’ve reached the second stanza,
It doesn’t seem so hard,
I’m certainly glad I gave it a go,
And tried it out, just never say no,
But now I fear I’ve reached my plateau,
I’ll never replace the Bard!

I’m reading Malcolm Guite’s terrific ‘Galahad and the Grail’ at the moment, which is written in ballad form. Rather than always alternating between 4 beats and 3 beats, he mixes it up, my favourite following the above rhyme and beat pattern. Thought I’d try it out, nothing serious this time but I may come back to it.
(30.05.26)

© Ben Quant 2026
Photo by Taha on Unsplash

Poem 896 – The Foal

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Straining, all knees and gangly legs, I stand.
My newborn head is heavy as I reach
and sway with splaying limbs towards my mum.
I find she’s moved. I glitch and stumble forwards.
Momentum found, I shake my mane and follow,
our bodies, side by side, are bound by hope.
At last she stops, and threatening to collapse,
I find a teat and finally start to suck.

After dinner we went for a local wander and enjoy the sight of four newborn foals finding their feet.
(29 05.26)

© Ben Quant 2026
Photo by Fabien Maurin on Unsplash