Slouched on the sofa
Watching programmes on the box
With my other half
It’s the weekend. A night to relax.
(29.11.24)
© Ben Quant 2024
Photo by Michael DeMoya on Unsplash
Just for fun
Poem 362 – In Honour of Leonardo Fibonacci
This
Is
Not a
Nonet. It is
A Fibonacci verse, in honour of
Fibonacci Day. Get it? No? Check the date –
Unless you are British not American, in which case I fear it’s nonsense!
The Fibonacci sequence is a sequence in which each number is the sun of the previous two, starting 1,1,2,3 just like today’s date (ignore the year).
(23.11.24)
© Ben Quant 2024
Original photo by Hans-Peter Postel, CC BY 2.5, via Wikimedia Commons
Poem 352 – The Slide
The source of so many lessons:
Do not climb up the slope
or throw yourself from the top.
Take your go in turns
and don’t push others off.
Use your head but always
descend the slide feet first.
Make sure the way is clear
before taking flight.
Expect to be involved
in a collision if you play at the bottom.
Toy cars pushed down with force
do not have workable breaks…
It was Toddlers this morning, which always makes great people watching, especially if the smaller variety!
(13.11.24)
© Ben Quant 2024
Poem 345 – Brits on Tour
I have never seen
so many pregnant men
lying on the beach
roasting in the sun
I was going to write about Trump, but that was too depressing.
(06.11.24)
© Ben Quant 2024
Poem 330 – Autumn Leaves
Peas and sweetcorn in the trees,
Occasionally baked beans in between.
Goodness knows who has the reach,
But in a week or two, the plates will be clean!
A silly verse continuing the autumnal theme, which came to mind as I walked to a meeting at school this morning.
(22.10.24)
© Ben Quant 2024
Photo by Isabella Struck on Unsplash
Poem 321 – Circular Motion
I remember the cringiness
of watching parents dance.
Last night I realised
those dancers are now me.
At a party last night, I realised I’m not one of the ‘old’ people dancing…
(13.10.24)
© Ben Quant 2024
Photo by Baptiste MEREL on Unsplash
Poem 312 – We Won
Tonight we quizzed,
Wore bread, threw tea,
Hung necklaces
Of shoes in glee.
Tonight we cheered
And did our best,
Played games with bread,
Bemused our guests.
Tonight we made
Ourselves complete
And utter fools
With spoons and feet.
Tonight we won,
Yes everyone had fun,
And when we left
We left as one.
Tonight we enjoyed our own version of Taskmaster at church as part of our harvest celebrations. Very silly. I hope the owner of the glasses forgives me!
(04.10.24)
© Ben Quant 2024
Poem 308 – On Meeting Neil Hannon
Let’s get the obvious out of the way,
the biggies like thou shalt not kill,
or covert thou neighbour’s wife or ox.
(I’d like to think that surely now
we’d not equate a cow and a woman
or see them both as property).
And then there’s those that allegedly linger
Like not eating mince pies at Christmas
or providing a range to practice archery.
But what exactly is the etiquette
regarding bumping into one’s hero
in a queue for the urinals in the interval?
Is a nod of the head appropriate?
I would guess so. My quandary is,
what is our stance on autographs?
A real encounter at a Duke Special gig. None of us were knew how to respond to his presence.
(30.09.24)
© Ben Quant 2024
Photo by Erik Mclean on Unsplash
Poem 301 – Mind the Gap
Please mind the gap, tread carefully or
Risk falling through the grasping crack.
Beneath the step awaits unseen,
A doom which hides below the tracks.
You hear the scream of biting brakes,
But nothing is as it might seem.
That sound? A mighty creature’s roar,
As along the tracks it eagerly streams.
This beast that lurks unlit by light,
Over the eons has gone berserk.
And now its hand your ankle grasps,
To pull you down with just one jerk.
There’s not much time, so please act now,
Don’t hesitate, and you’ll be fine.
Don’t hang around, because you’ll find,
Upon your bones he’ll gnaw and grind!
I had a meeting in London today, and wrote this on the tube; the phrase ‘mind the gap’ demanded some form of comic verse. To be read out loud with expression!
(23.09.24)
© Ben Quant 2024
Photo by Tim Hüfner on Unsplash
Poem 300 – Aaaargh!
All this jostling and bustling,
My to-do list is hustling,
Tasks shoving and pushing,
To get the first look in.
The long-term and urgent,
Are scarily convergent.
They’re shouting, demanding,
Screaming, commanding.
They’re fighting and scrapping,
Wrestling and grappling.
Practising mad tricks,
With devious tactics.
I can take it no longer,
It’s driving me bonkers.
I swear there’s no doubt,
It’s time to scream out…
‘Form an orderly queue,
All you things to do,
There’s no need to run,
I’ll get you all done.’
But the truth of the matter?
The list’s getting fatter,
And by the close of each day,
The end’s further away!
For a whole variety of reasons, September to December is always the busiest time of year for me, with one thing following hot on the heels of the previous! Experience tells me I’ll get it all done, but there are days when it feels more than a little daunting.
(22.09.24)
© Ben Quant 2024
Photo by Ryan Snaadt on Unsplash
Ode for the Day 
