Two numb patches on my bum,
This saddle has to change,
My undercarriage is just fine but
No sitting on that again!
It turns out the saddle on my new bike is not so comfortable after a proper ride…
(16.09.25)
© Ben Quant 2025
Photo by Florencia Potter on Unsplash
Yesterday it rained,
Today it’s raining,
I feel responsible…
Tomorrow’s assembly?
Noah and the Ark.
It’s damp outside…
(14.09.25)
© Ben Quant 2025
Photo by Jose Fontano on Unsplash
A week or two has passed
and all is as we left it.
The TV hasn’t fallen,
or damp stains reappeared,
or furniture collapsed.
My DIY has lasted
longer than Liz Truss.
I can announce I have
a strong and stable cabinet!
Much to my relief, returning after Greenbelt, the DIY is as I left it.
(26.08.25)
© Ben Quant 2025
Distracted by the day’s events,
appointments, admin, strategic planning,
I almost forgot that I was meant
to write a verse in my fair hand,
of poetry before the day was out –
it didn’t need to be that grand.
My plan? To write each day throughout
the year, to capture thoughts and dreams,
moments of faith and times of doubt.
A busy day today, I almost forgot…
(18.08.25)
© Ben Quant 2025
Photo by Murray Campbell on Unsplash
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
Ode for the Day 