Author: BenDQ

Poem 25 – The Intercessor

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Reckless these needles stand proud
Reaching defiantly into the deep
An arm outstretched captured pleading
Skimming stone caught flying mid-leap
Valiant intercessor bridging between
Stark precipice and unstoppable blue
Tempestuous nights beacon flashing
Steering brave souls home safe and true

Stuck inside due to Covid gives me the chance to look back through the year’s photos. This one comes from a walk along the south coast of the Isle of Wight, past the Tennyson monument, to look out on the Needles and their lighthouse. What started off as a drizzly day thankfully quickly cheered up, but not much imagination is required to picture how fierce this tranquil scene could become if the weather truly turned.

The Needles, Isle of Wight

(04.11.21)

© Ben Quant 2021

Poem 24 – Tracking Dinosaurs

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On this ancient shore
Once walked terrible lizards
Their footprints remain

A bonus haiku to end the day. As a family we’ve spent many days sifting through stones on the beach looking for fossils. Always fancied finding dinosaur footprints, and on the Isle of Wight I did – although many had no doubt seen these Iguanodon prints before.

(03.11.21)

© Ben Quant 2021

Returning to add this poem to Obsidian, I wonder if it would be better like this:

Terrible lizards
Once walked on this ancient shore
Their footprints remain
(10.10.24)

Poem 23 – The Print

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Delicate indentations reveal a deer passed
Picking its way along waterlogged tracks
Perhaps it tarried briefly pausing alert
Cautiously surveying green surrounds
Head raised to assess through scent and sound
If it traversed alone or was observed
Tense moment before anticipation released
A dainty leap and flick of doe heals
Propelling her fleetingly into concealing reeds
Verdant veil drawn across diminutive form
Leaving a flash of white tail and earthy tread
Alone to reveal that she stood here at all

The Lea Valley park at the end of our road is full of wildlife. One of my favourite sights is the glimpse of a muntjac deer before it vanishes into the undergrowth. Despite them being a regular sight, I have never achieved a satisfactory photograph, they move to fast, these paw prints being the nearest I’ve got.

(03.11.21)

© Ben Quant 2021

Poem 22 – Are We Not All Heroes?

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This summer we made pilgrimage
Briefly escaping Covid’s shadow
Blinking as we entered the light
Of Cardiff’s sun kissed halo

There with the tentative throng
We explored its proud sites
From the castle idiosyncratic
To mist veiled surrounding heights

We marched around it’s harbour
Leaning into the red dragon’s breath
That blew across boat filled waters
Our path encompassing its breadth

But as we walked we paused awhile
By a shrine with trinkets bedecked
Left in honour of a hero lost
By earnest admirers memory kept

Who was this man, what was his merit
The deeds that demand such respect?
Why Ianto Jones they did reply
Welshman of Torchwood, most adept

Puzzled I left for I knew of him
For he had graced my screens
A hero not of real life, you see
Concocted in another’s dreams

How can the death of one not living
Made up, existing just in story
Capture the imagination of those who watch
Achieving real life glory?

What of us I wondered as we left
Who battle daily to survive
Without such glamour yet endeavours true
Will our memories remain alive?

This summer we managed to take a holiday just outside Cardiff, a city I’d never visited before. I loved it, especially its castle whose eccentric internal decor was a wonderful surprise after its traditional outer shell. As a sci-fi fan I insisted on visiting Ianto’s shrine, a tribute to the character in the Doctor Who spin-off, Torchwood, who topically dies as a result of being exposed to a lethal virus. Seemed surreal that a character in a TV-drama should garner such respect when so many true heroes go unnoticed.

(02.11.21)

© Ben Quant 2021

Poem 21 – When is Good News Not Good News?

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The results are in
It was positive
This strikes me as strange
Not the result but
Terminology
Positive should be
A good outcome or
News to celebrate
But sad to say this
Affirmative means
Hiding away from
Friends and family
Hoping and praying
That each imagined
Symptom vanishes
Not grows and becomes
Something more than a
Whisper or hint of
A misplaced breath or
Momentary flush
A twinging back or
Misplaced taste or smell
None of this seems that
Positive to me

Alas my Covid test results weren’t as hoped, although thankfully I’ve not got it badly at all. Reckon this period of isolation should prove productive for poem writing though once I’ve got my usual activities all covered…

(01.11.21)

© Ben Quant 2021

Poem 20 – Testing Times

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Filtered faces disguise
Deep fakes deceive
Social media echo chambers
Brexit lies or frees

Fishing boats blockade
Protestors bar the way
Climate change deniers frustrate
Empty shelves just tease

Practise track and trace
Download the Covid app
Swab the tonsils jab the nose
Negative test please…

It’s been a confusing and tempestuous few years and to top it all I was just asked to take a Covid test...

(31.10.21)

© Ben Quant 2021

Poem 19 – Globe Spell

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To compose an ode in honour of The Bard
Whose famed lines ensnare hearts
From stages encircling this precious globe
As well as from upon it
Is a task too high to reach

Instead I shall write in praise of those
Whose mouths have uttered his enchantment
Weaving spells through speech inspired
To whisk us from this mundane life to
Distant islands, courts and faery realms

Owning this sacred space these mortals become
As gods with creator’s power to form
The world anew for a few brief acts
Transforming landscapes without and
Landscapes within

And here we dwell until the final cheer
Echoes from its stalls and as one
We rise in awe to praise before
Returning to our mortal homes
His lingering whisper remains


Shakespeare’s Globe is one of my favourite places, a haunt where magic still happens.

(29.10.21)

© Ben Quant 2021

Poem 17 – Finally, Time for Bed

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Past the pumpkin hour
And I’m dead beat
All day long
I’ve been on my feet
My bed is calling
A duvet treat
I’ll see you in the morning
Wash, rinse and repeat!

Day one of a three day conference I help run for our church movement. Always fantastic, an inspiring family gathering, but always full on…

© Ben Quant 2021

Poem 16 – Swans in Transition

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Spying us across the verdant water
The transitioning signet swims urgently
Dragging a deep dart in its wake
Once brown it’s noble ark now speckled
Flattens, reaching, pleading
Demanding food with a desperate shush

Scattered pellets bob summoning
Mottled siblings and parents to join
The royal throng that turns and tussles
Graceful wings raised in display
Becoming fierce enforcers of superiority
Sharp snaps send snowy feathers adrift

With pecking order firmly fixed
The mature monarch rules the roost
Yet young usurpers yearn for their chance
Raising their wings and wrestling
Until food finished joining those forced to flee
Calming, becoming again the beautiful bank*

Most days we take a tub of swan food down to the River Lea. Over the last couple of days there have been a significant number of swans, including yesterday one parent taking its offspring for a dramatic flying lesson. Feeding them today created a fiercely fought frenzy, most unlike the peaceful demeanour they usually display.

* Bank here has a dual meaning referring to both the river bank and the bank of swans, one of their collective nouns.

(24.10.21)

© Ben Quant 2021