Poem 858 – The Itch

Today I’m feeling the itch
Of foreign shores and shoes
The land and lives of others
The words of truth untold

Horizons far and strange
Sad songs as yet unheard
Wierd customs old and alien
Tongues of curious words

Strange tastes I have not tasted
Odd tales I do not know
The whiff of exotic spices
Tastes of a wondrous world

Watching Race Around The World with memories of Türkiye still fresh, I want to get on the road again!
(21.04.26)

© Ben Quant 2026

Poem 849 – Suspended

I am that distant dot.
Up here the world is calm –
the turquoise sea is still
and all the globe is quiet.
Suspended up above
the angry clamour ceases:
perspective changes every-
thing. I long to stay.

In a fit of courage, I may have accidentally stepped off the edge of Babadag, 1800m up… Glorious!
(12.04.26)

© Ben Quant 2026

Poem 846 – Kayaköy Blooms

Kayaköy, your bleached stones bloom before me.
Mourning your children snatched before their time,
your silent wailing groans throughout your homes,
echoes disturbing graves and gathered grime.

But even as these tears descend there’s hope:
chaffinches become redemption’s raucous choir
and nature’s tendrils reach around each stone,
their blooms compose a far more cheerful flower.

We hiked back to revisit Kayaköy having been there a few years back. A place of terrible atrocities which is gradually being taken over by an abundance of wildlife.
(09.04.26)

© Ben Quant 2026

Poem 790 – En Route

Gridlocked motorways
Stormy weather past Stonehenge
Winding country lanes

Praying the roads are clear
Dodging pot holes and branches
Don’t make me reverse!

Battery running low
Hoping that the charger works…
Big sighs of relief!

Helping lead a retreat for the Sierra Leone Mission today meant a long and early motorway drive to just beyond Exeter.
(12.02.26)

© Ben Quant 2026

Poem 781 – Freewheeling

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