Observing the world
From our post above the Thames
Pointing out the sights
A quick rising in the London Eye before Love’s Labours Lost at The Globe
(19.07.26)
© Ben Quant 2026
Travel
Poem 941 – Hereward Brings Turfrieda Home (The Ballad of the Wake cont.)
So now renowned in far Flanders
Across the Narrow Seas, 1
He took Turfrieda in his embrace,
With arms now proven in strength and grace,
Declaring ‘No more should we be displaced,
Let’s live as family!’
We’ve been apart for far too long,
Let’s leave and forge a home,
Back in the Fens, my Father’s land,
Let’s up at once and go!
And so he gathered up his men
With Siwards Red and White,
The chaplain Hugo Britannious,
With prayer and sword a genius,
His brother too, one Withardus,
A knight of valour and might.
And so they sailed across the Seas,
Past France, back home again,
Where Old Man Heron patient stood,
And pike and perch swam in the brook,
And eels swam past the willow wood,
Back to his Mother Fen.
After sharing a few verses with my father yesterday, I’m feeling inspired to press on with this ballad, and determined to intertwine the tale of Hereward with the character of our shared fenland home.
(14.07.26)
© Ben Quant 2026
Image public domain
- The Anglo Saxon Name for the English Channel ↩︎
Poem 938 – The Passage
Our kayak slides along the dark, still water.
Here no ripples form, all sound is dampened.
Distant lungs breathe in, the weighty air
constricts and reaching trees bow down in greeting.
We whisper, fearing to disturb this timeless
passage; what lies within its pulsing vein?
I sense some sentience observing me
within, some foreign mind forming judgements.
We’re steered forwards, towards the distant light,
invited by its possibility,
all the time suppressing the nagging doubt
that something is amiss. We close our eyes.
Within the ocean deep, they say, there lurk
treacherous creatures that lure their prey with bio-
luminescence. Attracted by unnatural
suns their victims swim into their mouths.
Inspired by a photo and discussion shared in an online forum I’m part of. Photo taken kayaking in Northern Winsconsin.
(11.07.26)
© Ben Quant 2026
Photo Kris Smith / WickedDarkPhotography
Poem 935 – The Wreck
Now exposed to the elements,
your striped back bones are bleached
and fading fast. You tilt to dip
your toes into the welcome water
and, finding its embrace enticing,
you slowly slide under its sheets,
a cautious paddler, one inch at a time.
A boat has been abandoned in the river at the foot of our road. Whilst it’s an unsafe eyesore, it’s also fascinating to watch it gradually decay.
(08.07.26)
© Ben Quant 2026
Poem 924 – The Lantern Men (Ballad of the Wake cont.)
Beware the marsh the black crow cries,
Beware the treacherous mire,
Beware deceptive flickering lights,
That tempt and tease us from our stride,
The cunning of these devious guides,
That wickedly conspire.
Beware the evil lantern men,
The haunters of the fen,
That flicker with the barking dog,
That howls within the cloaking fog,
The phantom hound, the grim Black Shuck,
Enticing us to our death.
A bit brain dulled by the heat and the days events, so here’s a couple of verses that may or may not feature in the Ballad of the Wake.
(26.06.26)
© Ben Quant 2026
Photo by Fabio Verhorstert on Unsplash
Poem 923 – A Heavenly Blacksmith
The furnace of the African sun
Was the perfect place to forge a friendship,
To meld our souls, two servants together.
It only seemed appropriate that
This friendship was restored today
Under the blaze of this burning Sun.
As one we walk in different fields,
A common life in different cultures,
Together refined by Christ the Son.
In an act of perfect symmetry I was reunited with a friend from Sierra Leone in a heatwave reminiscent of my time there.
(25.06.26)
© Ben Quant 2026
Photo by Vincenzo Marotta on Unsplash
Poem 902 – Vehicular Choices
The darkening skies amass and wait
for me to mount my bike,
then dump their contents with a laugh
down from the heavens, an unwanted bath,
perhaps I should have chosen a raft
for this elemental fight!
It’s been a day of cycling backwards and forwards to a variety of events, meetings and services. Every time it started to rain…
(04.06.26)
© Ben Quant 2026
Poem 890 – Driven Away
Today’s been dulled by miles of endless road
And, somewhere south of Kettering services,
I mislaid my muse upon the motorway.
I didn’t do it by design, believe me,
it simply slipped away in silent protest
at the hours of mindless apathy.
Most of today has been spent on the road enduring hot, boring miles.
(23.05.26)
© Ben Quant 2026
Photo by Haniel Espinal on Unsplash
Poem 885 – The Rollercoaster
It’s not the ride but the wait,
the mounting anticipation
that builds adrenaline,
the queue that snakes beneath
the rising ride. It twists
then plunges. You duck,
knowing you’re safe but
just in case. ‘What if?…’
you wonder, then try to thrust
the thought away. Some shriek,
excitedly, showing off
their fear, whilst others stand
in silence, trying to
contain it. And then the gates.
A moment’s bracing then
release, a screaming release,
a rattling, rolling, tumbling
release of laughter, joy,
so utterly alive!
From the smallest to the largest, today we’ve packed them in.
(18.05.26)
© Ben Quant 2026
Photo by Priscilla Du Preez 🇨🇦 on Unsplash
Poem 870 – Headlights
This tunnel through the spongy dark
reveals a flattened hazy realm.
The light is fuzzy, indistinct, and
sudden peripheral interruptions
sharply protrude from either flank.
Beyond remains alert, unknown.
I drive on through this foreign land
aware that I’m intruding here.
The halo follows me but as
we move the blackness rushes in,
devouring what is left behind.
I am an island in the night
fearful of moving fast and worried
of what might happen if I stop.
I drove up to my Dad tonight. The last miles are across country, down unlight country roads, which in the dark begins strangely sentient.
(03.05.26)
© Ben Quant 2026
Photo by Philipp Katzenberger on Unsplash
Ode for the Day 