Last minute,
final breath,
time
stands
still
until…
the roar!!!!!
Bonus poem today after the footie.
What. A. Turnaround.
(22.07.25)
© Ben Quant 2025
Photo by Chaos Soccer Gear on Unsplash
Sport
Poem 578 – ‘Keep Yer Eye on the Ball’
At school, ball games were never my thing.
I could score goals … but only in my own net
(that childhood tournament haunts me still).
I’d knock my own bails off in cricket matches
and never keep a tennis ball in court.
My humble stature left me overwhelmed
in rugby’s crush and overlooked in basketball.
Today the fear returned. Invited back
onto the field to join the staff in battle,
I grasped the rounders bat and tried to banish
the rising sense of shame; ‘Oh no, it’s Ben’
I heard again. But then, another childhood
chant emerged unbidden from the past.
I heard at last the call, ‘Just keep yer eye
upon the ball!’ and with these words in mind
I faced the bowler and swiftly swung my bat.
And with that swing I banished both the ball
and school-hood shame, as with astonishment
I watched it fly through crowd and air and ran,
and ran, around base one and two and three,
and reached the final post before the fall.
What bliss! What cheers! Redemption’s mine!
Salvation found within that skyward ball!
This afternoon I arrived at school prepared for the annual humiliation of the Year 6 Vs Staff and clergy rounders match.
(16.07.25)
© Ben Quant 2025
Photo by Ross Sneddon on Unsplash
Poem 576 – Stage 9
Impossible odds.
Surely not? Maybe? Could they?
Yes! Yes! Oh! So close…
Breaking away from the starting line, Van der Poel was so close to staying away all the way to victory. Deserves a longer ode than I have time for today.
(14.07.25)
© Ben Quant 2025
Photo by Ana Moreno on Unsplash
Poem 573 – Brake!
A clash of wheels and crash of bikes,
As cyclists slide and the peleton crumples.
Collarbones snap as bodies fly,
Time stands still while bike frames cartwheel.
The road fights back and tarmac argues,
Sharp gravel causes sparking metal.
A country stops and holds its breath
And anxious, waits for dust to settle.
Another gripping day in the Tour, but with a brutal crash.
(11.07.25)
© Ben Quant 2025
Photo by Mathias Reding on Unsplash
Poem 572 – Too Hot!
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
Poem 571 – Heroes of the Peleton
Djamolidine Abdoujaparov,
LeMond and Bernard Hinault,
Sean Kelly, Yates and Robert Miller,
Pantani, Eddy Merckx, Jens Voight
Mark Cavendish, Boardman, Stephen Roach,
Geriant Thomas, Thomas Voeckler,
Cipollini, Induráin,
These names are framed within my mind
True heroes of the peleton
Some of the cyclists on the Tour de France whose wonderful names and heroics will always remain with me.
(09.07.25)
© Ben Quant 2025
Photo by Stefan Scheepmaker on Unsplash
Poem 569 – Le Tour (or Getting In My Excuses)
Le Tour has started
With its spills and its thrills,
Broom wagons, bunch sprints,
Great rivalries, myths.
The peleton charges
For mile upon mile,
Up impossible climbs,
Down crazy descents.
And as a result
I’m somewhat distracted
When watching the highlights
This poem must stop.
My daily rhymes might become a little more perfunctory over the next few weeks…
(07.07.25)
Poem 534 – Blue Shoes, Not Suede
Two impulse buys invited me to spend:
First up, a secondhand gold saxophone;
Second, running shoes, bright blue, not suede.
The running shoes were cheaper and so won.
I tried them out this lunchtime in the sun.
Putting them on reminded me of times
When I have run before; the burst of life
That it provides, the surging exhilaration.
A weightless circuit around the local lake,
Feet lifting lightly with the new shoe bounce.
And as I run I wonder if the sax
Would have been so easy. Still tempted though…
Two shopping options from our recent time away.
(02.06.25)
Poem 532 – Colle delle Finestre
Seven years on
A return to the mountain
Back on the slopes with
A shot at redemption
A facing down demons
Of sapping defeat
The pedals are turned
The cycle’s complete.
After losing the Giro d’Italia on the slopes of the Colle delle Finestre in 2018, it was wonderful to see Simon Yates return victoriously today.
(31.05.25)
© Ben Quant 2025
Photo by Munbaik Cycling Clothing on Unsplash
Poem 526 – Hansen & Van Dijk
From one giant to another,
colossi in defence,
composed and fleet of foot,
poetic in elegance.
Well versed in form and motion,
bewitching with their rhyme,
possessing the canny knack,
of arriving just in time.
These masters of their art,
one hand on either handle,
bridging generations,
the passing of the mantle.
Liverpool FC were awarded the Premier League Trophy today, with a hero of my childhood, Alan Hansen, passing the trophy to Virgil van Dijk, a hero of today.
(25.05.25)
© Ben Quant 2025
Source of photo unknown
Ode for the Day 