Poem 781 – Freewheeling

Feb 3, 2026Feb 3, 2026 / BenDQ / Leave a comment

Overcast and damp, the air
is grey and permeates my hair
as I watch old tyres being changed,
condemned for being found threadbare.

Above, in freedom, red kites range,
magnificent as they exchange
the shackles of hard earth for flight,
from gravity’s embrace estranged.

In contrast, my hubcaps are stuck tight,
the mechanic struggles, applying might
to loosen them without causing damage,
dedicated to winning this fight.

Within my ears sounds the ancient adage
about keeping on until you manage, as
at last with wheels that have been repaired,
just like the raptor, I achieve free passage.

It was a miserable morning waiting whilst my tyres were changed today, but the mood was lifted by two glorious red kites circling above.
(03.02.26)

© Ben Quant 2026
Photo by Phil Robson on Unsplash

Poem 779 – In the Beginning

Feb 1, 2026 / BenDQ / Leave a comment

In the beginning, the end.
The trunk lies prone across
the damp, green undergrowth,
a wetland’s edge, a world
of moss and earthy smells.
Before too long its reach
is breached, invaded by
a myriad of hopeful life
that creeps across its skin
and digs within its folds.
Roots tenderly caress
and insects penetrate –
integrity decays
as one becomes the whole and
the whole absorbs the one.
This union births a realm,
a bloom of life, and thus
the end becomes the beginning.

On our walk this afternoon we passed a tree that had been felled and deliberately let to rot and feed the life of a local patch of wetland.
(01.02.26)

© Ben Quant 2026
Photo by Ivy Kleban on Unsplash

Poem 778 – Winter Lights

Jan 31, 2026 / BenDQ / Leave a comment

Amongst Canary Wharf’s tall colonnades
we pause, transformed by dancing neon lights.
These bright kaleidoscopes of colour cause
the crowd in awe to stop and forget the world;
until the world joins in. The moon, full glow,
erupts to snatch the glory and the night.

Just back from a wonderful evening exploring the annual Winter Lights
(31.01.26)

© Ben Quant 2026

Poem 776 – Black Feather

Jan 29, 2026 / BenDQ / Leave a comment

Flapping up high in the sycamore leaves,
Black Feather perches in the breeze.
An eye on the weather, an eye on the floor,
Black Feather watches with a wink and a caw.
A thought for the lonely who stand just as he,
a thought for the brook, for the hedge and the tree.
A thought for the orphan, a thought for the sick,
a thought for the sad as he gathered up twigs.
Black as the as darkest cave, black as the sea,
black as the sin that stains you and me.
He sees it all from his post in the sky,
Black Feather cries as he wonders why.

Just watched the first episode of Mackenzie Crook’s Worzel Gummidge, and found myself trying to write a poem that evoked an English folk saying about crows.
(29.01.26)

© Ben Quant 2026
Photo by Semyon Borisov on Unsplash

Poem 773 – A Winter Walk

Jan 26, 2026Jan 26, 2026 / BenDQ / Leave a comment

The sky’s translucent. A milky haze of mist
gives substance to the air, a thin and sloppy
semolina. It cloaks us and the land
beneath our feet. I shiver bitterly.

Beside this winter garb, the earth is bare,
with not a bloom or waking bud in sight.
Standing mutely watching us go past,
the sheep appear resigned, their fleeces stained.

Above, a glider sails the milky sea.
It moves in circles, like a silent bird
of prey, only it never swoops. Below,
I turn my collar up and press on home.

Went for a walk around my parents’ house today. Lovely, but it’s taken much of the rest of the day to warm up again!
(26.01.26)

© Ben Quant 2026
Photo by SAJAD FI on Unsplash

Poem 764 – The Three Companions

Jan 17, 2026 / BenDQ / Leave a comment

Three gentlemen stood perched along the bank:
the heron, egret and the cormorant.
The first, an aged fellow, grey and boney,
so motionless he seemed already dead.
His beard hung limp along a saggy throat,
contrasting with those penetrating eyes,
alert and constantly alive to us.
Beside, a smaller man not grey but white,
the translucent white that only comes with time,
serene and wise. Two unexpected river-
bedfellows. But is this stillness just
their cover? Up above their carer pearched,
high upon an ivy clad lookout.
Wry grin upon his long, compassionate beak,
he watched wondering what mischief lay ahead.

Walking along the New River today, we spotted the unexpected sight of a great heron, little egret and cormorant next to each other. Surprising and somewhat comical.
(17.01.26)

© Ben Quant 2026
Photo by Jessica Moss on Unsplash

Poem 755 – Storm Goretti

Jan 8, 2026Jan 8, 2026 / BenDQ / Leave a comment

Water sloshes from the sky like ocean waves
Crashing recklessly over the pavements,
Whilst rivers run, white rapids down the roads,
Tumbling torrents full of energy.

Crashing recklessly over the pavements,
Flushing the world within its hungry wake,
The storm’s a torrent full of energy,
A hungry deluge devouring the darkened sky.

Flushing the world within its hungry wake,
The urgent raindrops drum incessantly,
A hungry deluge devouring the darkened sky
Whilst sunshine hides its light in guilty shame.

The urgent raindrops drum incessantly
As rivers run, white rapids down the roads.
The sunshine hides its light in guilty shame
Whilst water sloshes from the sky in waves.

I enjoyed writing the pantoum a couple of days ago, and so thought I’d try another on this rainy day.
(08.01.26)

Poem 752 – Under the Dusty Moon

Jan 5, 2026Jan 8, 2026 / BenDQ / Leave a comment

The night is dark and cold, another world.
Inside, the dark house creaks, could it be haunted?
A creature crashes against the neighbour’s fence,
accompanied by the roar of a passing bike.

The dark house creaks, could it be haunted?
My wife breathes alongside me oblivious,
accompanied by the roar of a passing bike.
Somewhere a lover argues on his phone.

My wife breathes alongside me oblivious.
Meanwhile rubbish blows along the pavement
as a drunken lover argues on his phone;
two strangers drifting under the dusty moon.

As rubbish blows along the empty pavement,
a creature crashes against the neighbour’s fence;
two strangers adrift under the dusty moon.
The night is dark and cold, another world.

A pantoum in response to a post by Pádraig Ó Tuama.
(05.01.26)

Poem 749 – Under January Skies

Jan 2, 2026Jan 8, 2026 / BenDQ / Leave a comment

The winter’s sky, the bitter pale,
Bites our faces and bleaches soil,
Its cutting sun burns scars in our sight,
With crispness of air and blinding light.

The iron ground and crinkling step,
That crunches under frozen foot,
Is joined above by a piercing breeze,
Whipping shivering birds and naked trees.

And we, caressed by dying sun,
In melancholy are undone,
And looking forward count the cost,
Mourning the things that aren’t yet lost.

Inspired by a chilly walk and a line I read today.
(02.01.26)

Poem 744 – December Walk

Dec 28, 2025Jan 8, 2026 / BenDQ / Leave a comment

The Lee is grey, reflecting the winter sky.
The piercing wind penetrates my coat,
and sharply flutters around my ears and collar.
The heat drains from my fingers. I start to shiver.
Along the bank the swans stick out no more;
today their feathers blend with the monochrome. We stop to feed them. Guzzling eagerly,
they have their fill, stretching their necks for more.
We walk on by the boats, bouyed on by hope,
as Christmas lights break through the gathered gloom.

A winter walk along the River Lee with the family.
(28.12.25)

Ode for the Day

An experiment in poetic doodling

Natural World