The satisfaction
Of crisp creases,
Neat lines aligning
The sides of sleeves.
Gliding along
The front and back,
A perfect piece
Of art in action.
A pile of ironing awaits. I’m putting it off although I always find shirts perversely satisfying.
(30.10.25)
© Ben Quant 2025
Photo by Ryoji Hayasaka on Unsplash
Did you know a house can die? It’s true.
Our neighbour died and like a loyal pet,
his house began to pine, the peeling paint
its tears, and spreading weeds its growing grief.
As beams decayed its backbone bent all hunched,
and boarded up, sad eyes began to close.
But even then the faintest pulse remained,
the finest thread of life tied on to hope,
a flicker waiting for resuscitation.
Today that longed for life at last moved in.
Going for an evening walk tonight, we notice that we have new neighbours.
(08.09.25)
© Ben Quant 2025
Photo by Untitled Photo on Unsplash
The tide comes in, its waves
sweeping across the wall,
a swell of colour crashing
to its very boundaries.
Rock pools form, deep puddles
caught in crevices.
Carefree spray transgresses,
marking past its limits.
But as the wash recedes,
the turbulence dies down,
a pristine beach is left
of smooth and even colour.
We’re decorating at the moment, painting walls one at a time around the house. So often it looks a terrible mess until the very last coat is on and dry.
(02.09.25)
© Ben Quant 2025
Photo by Ryan Farid on Unsplash
Ode for the Day 