I’ve got some glass
And a tub of putty
But will replacing the pane
Drive me nutty?
Clear out the old
What can go wrong?
Pop in the new
Stick it nice and strong.
It’s been a while
Since I did it last
Any skills I had
Are lost to the past…
Scope for disaster?
Without a doubt.
Please join me praying
It won’t fall out!
A quick silly poem before tomorrow’s DIY task at church.
(15.08.25)
© Ben Quant 2025
Photo by Call Me Fred on Unsplash
Polyfilla fills
Holes from many drills
This cowboy builder’s dream
Doing some decorating. Ran out of time for a proper poem..
(12.08.25)
© Ben Quant 2025
Photo by Roselyn Tirado on Unsplash
We never saw the plotting and scheming,
Committees meeting under our noses.
Did they excavate under a vault,
To dig deep tunnels under the floor?
Or build a glider to fly from the table,
To run with freshly forged false papers?
Encouraged by the open door
In a bid for freedom, the cricket jumped
Out of the box, across the floor,
Across the carpet, its great escape.
But alas, its accent gave it away,
And rather than a McQueen moment,
An iconic final do or die,
I trapped it under a plastic cup…
Our son keeps crickets to feed his frogs and newts. Occasionally we spot them crossing the floor or climbing the wall…
(11.08.25)
© Ben Quant 2025
More poems on le Tour you say?
It may have to wait another day.
It’s too hot you see, too hot for me,
I don’t know how they do it!
Relentless peddling in the heat
Remorselessly chasing as they compete
For the yellow jersey, at the end of the journey,
As only one can don it!
Yesterday’s poem provoked the comment that there should be more poems on the Tour de France. A silly response at the end of a hot day.
(10.07.25)
© Ben Quant 2025
Photo by Christian Chrome on Unsplash
Your smell alone restores
Your taste invigorates
My lagging brain demands
A hit that stimulates
Your smoothness on my tongue
And heat reaching my heart
I was feeling undone
But now I can restart
Driving home late after a long couple of days. Had to stop for a caffeine kick…
(04.07.25)
There’s been no time
for rhyme today;
this is my only poem.
I will return
to try again,
when the verse is flowin’.
It’s been a full day!
(30.06.25)
© Ben Quant 2025
Photo by noor Younis on Unsplash
The art of talking
To the camera whilst walking
Is a tricky thing
I’m currently preparing a video for a grant application. Managed to trip over both my own feet and tongue…
(26.06.25)
© Ben Quant 2025
Photo by Samantha Borges on Unsplash
Driving home today,
my brain has turned to mush,
I’ll be hard pushed to say
anything that makes sense.
The Sun did not relent,
remaining loud, despite
the cloud, that meant it was
not quite as hot as thought.
I’m writing as I ought,
but nothing much profound
is found, within my head,
for me to say today.
And so I think I’ll stop
and sleep the night away.
It wasn’t as hot as we thought it might be today, but driving home from visiting family frazzled me somewhat nevertheless.
(21.06.25)
© Ben Quant 2025
Photo by Rajiv Bajaj on Unsplash
We arranged our raffle tickets
Upon the table top
To such surprise we found
We’d almost won the lot!
A true story from tonight’s competition!
(11.06.25)
© Ben Quant 2025
Just place her down and instantly
her body wound, a rubber band,
until the tension broke and poured
like crashing waves upon the sand.
What stamina she had for one
so young! This tidal flood could last
for hours until she was picked up
and then and only then would pass.
It didn’t matter if you sat
beside her or played face to face,
you may as well have left the room, or
simply vanished without a trace.
No, as soon as nappy-wrapped
behind made contact with the floor,
this lovely child, delightful girl
transformed, convulsing with a roar.
Her eyes would bulge and stomach clench,
and face turn many shades of puce,
her knuckles turn to pearls of white
and then tsunamis would be loosed.
All other souls would scatter fast
to seek her tired and desperate mother,
and if they couldn’t find her fast
dive under tables seeking cover.
A year has passed, you’d never guess
this happy child was such a pain.
Beware the day she has a child
and mighty tantrums rage again!
At toddlers I’ve been befriended by a girl who not so long ago was played by insecurity. To see the change in her is wonderful. I wonder if she’ll ever realise what she put her childminders through.
(14.05.25)
© Ben Quant 2025
Photo by Zahra Amiri on Unsplash
Ode for the Day 