The lights are on,
The tree erected,
Nativity placed
Upon its ledge.
The cards delivered
And guests invited,
The talk is written,
Song sheets in place.
The car is packed,
Set list confirmed,
We’re ready for carols,
Our Christ has come.
Tomorrow afternoon it’s our carol service – come and join us! https://wormleyfreechurch.org.uk/2025/11/24/christmas25/
(13.12.25)
© Ben Quant 2025
Photo by Owen.outdoors: https://www.pexels.com/photo/christmas-carol-sheet-music-with-decorations-29756511/
Author: BenDQ
Poem 728 – Christmas Lights
A chain of dancing lights effortlessly
pirouette across the darkened stage.
Full of childhood innocence, they search
us out, then smile and wave in recognition.
In that moment, our weariness subsides
and we return the smile with glowing faces.
But innocence must end, their moment passes,
and as the day begins they take their bow.
We decorated the church last night. Every year, the putting up of these lights officially signals the start of festivities, combining childhood memories and contemporary meaning.
(12.12.25)
© Ben Quant 2025
Poem 727 – The Morning Reveille
The sentry stands alert upon the shed,
his puffed out silhouette proudly picked out by
the rising rays of the winter sun. Lifting
his beak, he expands his scarlet chest and shrills his fanfare. Branches straighten in response.
I often find myself watching our garden birds first thing as I look out of our kitchen windows.
(11.12.25)
Poem 726 – On Being Watched
I’m being watched intently.
A pair of hungry newts
seem to think I could be dinner.
Constantly turning their necks,
they keep me in their gaze,
plotting how to catch me.
Suddenly I panic,
are they the frog’s decoy?
This evening I’m working alongside the tanks that contain our son‘s pets. I’m worried that they might be hatching a plan…
(10.12.25)
© Ben Quant 2025
Poem 725 – Instant Attraction
Our eyes snagged across the crowded room
Like velcro strips, we were hooked on each other
A quick one today, a couplet about a couple that sprung to mind as I walked to an engagement today.
(09.12.25)
© Ben Quant 2025
Photo by Priscilla Du Preez 🇨🇦 on Unsplash
Poem 724 – Festive Footsteps
Trudging around the estate,
Popping our cards through doors
Passing on God’s love,
The Christmas Word from above,
A happy festive chore,
That always feels so great.
Every year at this time I get my steps in delivering Christmas cards around the local area advertising our Christmas services.
(08.12.25)
© Ben Quant 2025
Photo by Jason Coudriet on Unsplash
Poem 723 – Holding Our Breath
A collective holding of breath,
growing anticipation,
the draining down of sand
and dawning realisation.
A sense of something changing,
reversal of the tide,
the night is nearly over,
two worlds will soon collide.
The earthly land of Adam
and heavenly realm of Christ,
by sin once torn asunder,
the terrible great divide.
But with the Light’s appearing,
the bridging of God’s Son,
his Word to flesh descending,
through love they’ll be made one.
To vulnerable skin he comes,
by human form confined,
it’s Immanuel we’re awaiting,
this hope-filled advent time.
So light a candle with me,
upon the advent wreath,
prepare yourself with prayer,
for the Christ-child to receive.
I was asked to offer a poem for a joint Advent service between my church and a neighbouring one (Rosedale Community Church). Mulling this over, I found an old one I’d written before and reworked it into this, changing the original last line and adding a number of new stanzas.
(07.12.25)
© Ben Quant 2025
Photo by Alexandar Todov on Unsplash
Poem 722 – A Smaller Sofa
It’s funny how the small things make a difference.
Our new sofa is smaller than the last;
it means we’re sitting closer. I think that counts.
There are too many things in life that pull us
apart to let soft furnishings join in.
When we were children the old cliché applied,
a cardboard box meant hours of fun ahead.
We’d play all day confined within its walls,
they kept us close and working out the rules
required for us to live our lives together.
We’re too sophisticated now within
our isolated bubbles. Arms’ length is safe.
Lurking behind a username we seek
community simply with those like us.
Perhaps it’s time to buy a smaller sofa.
A conversation this week reminded me of Ben Elton’s observation of the changing definition of community from living with those around you who are different from you, to it being seeking it those who think the same a you. And it’s true, we have a new sofa.
(06.12.25)
© Ben Quant 2025
Photo by Pavel Boltov on Unsplash
Poem 721 – Flat Pack Night
Remember, remember, the fifth of December,
Allen keys, flat packs and screws,
Just follow the instructions one at a time,
Considering using glue!
Silly one at the end of the day. We’re gradually updating our furniture at home. Finished the evening with assembling a new coffee table.
(05.12.25)
© Ben Quant 2025
Photo by OPPO Find X5 Pro on Unsplash
Poem 720 – Someone’s Coming…
Someone’s coming, yes, you know who,
He’s coming here for me and for you.
He has a list, it’s ever so long,
Which all of our names are written on.
Excitement’s growing, yes it is!
This isn’t something you’ll want to miss!
The wait’s so long, it’s got me in a tizz,
But when he comes, oh, it will be such bliss!
‘So has he been yet?’ my mother asks.
‘I don’t think so, but this wait can’t last,
I’ve been sitting here since night first fell,
Now my eyes are drooping, can’t you tell…’
I’m beginning to think that he won’t come,
I’m falling asleep, my plan’s undone.
But wait a minute, what’s this sound?
A shaking and a rumbling that’s growing loud.
A man in red? No, a man in white!
Suspended by wings, he hangs in flight,
A growing swell, a song of love,
The heavenly host, join in from above!
They say he’s coming, it won’t be long,
Mary’s contractions are growing strong,
You’d better not wait, no, get your skates on,
Dash out of the door, and to the manger run!
Someone’s coming, yes, you know who,
He’s coming here for me and for you,
So do not fear, there’s no need to be afraid,
God’s Son is born and in a manger laid!
I remember the excited anticipation of Christmas morning, and my mother’s annual question as we were eventually allowed downstairs, ‘Has he been yet?’, which led to a jubilant ripping open of Christmas presents. Today, I remain excited, but it’s about the arrival of someone else.
(04.12.25)
Ode for the Day 