Just for fun

Poem 553 – Driving in the Sun

/ BenDQ / Leave a comment

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

Poem 515 – High Tide at Toddlers

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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

Poem 492 – Munchausen’s Chimney

/ BenDQ / Leave a comment

A maze of scattered debris
lies around the base of
our unused fireplace.

Did a bird, nesting
upon its stack, dislodge
dry branches from last year?

Or Father Christmas have
an Easter practice run
to keep his ancient hands in?

Or did a howling ghost
whirl down the stack
to find the room was bare?

Or did some passing giant
chuck it down the chute
when on an early stroll?

Or is the flue a portal
down which this ash could tumble
from a parallel dimension?

Or maybe Krakatoa
blew its top once more
and scored this hole in one!

We found a load of wreckage around our fireplace this morning. How it got there I don’t know for sure, but I have my suspicions…
(21.04.25)

© Ben Quant 2025
Image of Baron Munchausen by August von Wille, Public Domain

Poem 472 – Watch the Date!

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Spaghetti trees and panda eggs,
Flying penguins pass in packs,
Des Lynam praises staff behaviour,
As fists land blows behind his back.

Planetary alignment weakens gravity,
Trampoline aisles in supermarkets,
Anton du Beke joins Ant and Dec
My favourite April Fools Day pranks

Some classic childhood favourites (and a newer one).
(01.04.25)

© Ben Quant 2025
Photo by Denis Agati on Unsplash

Poem 470 – Back on Track

/ BenDQ / Leave a comment

Today the clocks all say different times,
My sense of moment has been totally scrambled.
My brain is slightly discombobulated,
My words are coming out confused and jumbled.

The only saving grace is in the bathroom,
Where last autumn I forgot to change the clock,
Since then its screen has been an hour out,
But now I find it is, at last, tip-top!

Very bleary today after the switch to British Summer Time. It would be today that I had a delivery slot scheduled for between 7.30-9am – that’s 6.30-8am in yesterday’s time… Yuk.
(30.03.25)

© Ben Quant 2025
Photo by Towfiqu barbhuiya on Unsplash