‘Ne’er cast a clout
’till May is out’
… but what’s that sound?
the rain pouring down!
But fortunately, I had my a new mac with me…
(03.06.25)
© Ben Quant 2025
Photo by Alex Dukhanov on Unsplash
Author: BenDQ
Poem 534 – Blue Shoes, Not Suede
Two impulse buys invited me to spend:
First up, a secondhand gold saxophone;
Second, running shoes, bright blue, not suede.
The running shoes were cheaper and so won.
I tried them out this lunchtime in the sun.
Putting them on reminded me of times
When I have run before; the burst of life
That it provides, the surging exhilaration.
A weightless circuit around the local lake,
Feet lifting lightly with the new shoe bounce.
And as I run I wonder if the sax
Would have been so easy. Still tempted though…
Two shopping options from our recent time away.
(02.06.25)
Poem 533 – Barn Owl Ghazal
I saw a feathered ghost fly past tonight,
White and graceful wings flowing fast tonight.
Fixing a fleeting mouse with radar stare,
Big piercing eyes left us aghast tonight.
Swooping soundlessly between darkened boughs,
Its cold elegance unsurpassed tonight.
With outstretched talons and determined claws,
It plunged, grasping the scared mouse fast tonight.
Hard pressed and crushed, with a shrill, tearful cry,
The desperate mouse breathed its last tonight.
Two foes, one fearful and the other feared,
What a fatal, final contrast tonight!
I thought I’d have a go at a ghazal: https://www.poetryfoundation.org/education/glossary/ghazal. Here’s my first stab, a bit clumsy, but not too bad for a first go. Tricky one to master!
(01.06.25)
© Ben Quant 2025
Photo by Bob Brewer on Unsplash
Poem 532 – Colle delle Finestre
Seven years on
A return to the mountain
Back on the slopes with
A shot at redemption
A facing down demons
Of sapping defeat
The pedals are turned
The cycle’s complete.
After losing the Giro d’Italia on the slopes of the Colle delle Finestre in 2018, it was wonderful to see Simon Yates return victoriously today.
(31.05.25)
© Ben Quant 2025
Photo by Munbaik Cycling Clothing on Unsplash
Poem 531 – Farewell Hot-Lips
Farewell Major Houlihan,
The rose within ‘The Swamp’.
I never understood just what
You saw in Major Frank.
Or how you coped with Hawkeye Pierce
Or B. J. Hunnicutt,
The crossdressing of Corporal Klingor,
The madness of the camp.
But this I know, without your heart,
And mastery of stitching,
Our MAS*H would tear itself apart,
Its characters conflicted.
I was saddened to hear of the death of Loretta Swit, famous for playing Major Margaret “Hot Lips” Houlihan in MAS*H, today.
(30.05.25)
© Ben Quant 2025
Image Public Domain
Poem 530 – Ascension Day in Lincoln
Slowly we alight the sudden hill,
peeling back time as we ascend,
and as we do the Red Arrows fly by,
roaring past in perfect V formation.
They feel incongruous.
Timeless, above us all the cathedral reaches,
Imposing in its majesty it flies,
sundering our sense of time and scale.
Looking up, I lose identity,
and teetter on the edge of consciousness.
But even this transcendent edifice
is left behind. Upon its parapets
a peregrine perches, impervious to our whims.
Stretching, it commands the attention of
the distant minions gathering down beneath.
Meanwhile, one like a son of man ascends.
Upon the clouds he climbs to heaven’s throne,
and there, upon his head, the Ancient One
bestows an eternal crown and with it all glory
majesty and power for evermore!
We spent Ascension Day in Lincoln, where much to my delight we spotted peregrine falcons perched upon the cathedral. A truly awesome sight.
(29.05.25)
© Ben Quant 2025
Photo by Rory Tucker on Unsplash
Poem 529 – Kirby Hall
The rain comes down as soon as I
step from the car into its time.
The crying of a peacock lends
an eerie chill, disturbs my spine.
Forgotten gardens, ruined mansions,
midnight strolls and walking statues.
This shell reminds me of the dramas
that wrote the landscape of my childhood.
I half expect to see the ghost
of Queen Elizabeth drift by
the corner of my eye, as I,
survey the walls and roofless ceilings.
We walk in hushed, respectful tones
to navigate its sandstone bones,
and roam within its fading grandeur,
and marvel at this skeletal wonder.
Today we called in on Kirby Hall on the way to visit my parents. An amazing building.
(28.05.25)
© Ben Quant 2025
Poem 528 – Unresolved
A photo taken at high speed,
I find myself a smeared shadow.
Caught in the instant, its movement is
uncertain, full of the tension found
between two possibilities.
This indecisive Schrödinger moment,
leaves its unseen plotlines hanging.
An odd day today. Between things.
(27.05.25)
Poem 527 – Bank Holiday
The simple joy
of waking up,
remembering,
then going back
to sleep.
It’s always nice having a day off after a Sunday!
(26.05.25)
© Ben Quant 2025
Photo by Kate Stone Matheson on Unsplash
Poem 526 – Hansen & Van Dijk
From one giant to another,
colossi in defence,
composed and fleet of foot,
poetic in elegance.
Well versed in form and motion,
bewitching with their rhyme,
possessing the canny knack,
of arriving just in time.
These masters of their art,
one hand on either handle,
bridging generations,
the passing of the mantle.
Liverpool FC were awarded the Premier League Trophy today, with a hero of my childhood, Alan Hansen, passing the trophy to Virgil van Dijk, a hero of today.
(25.05.25)
© Ben Quant 2025
Source of photo unknown
Ode for the Day 