Poem 638 – Cycling in the Rain

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Back at the very start,
The rain no longer matters.
I smile because the miles
Are done, the hills are past,
The churches all ticked off.
Somehow, the heavens opening
Seems appropriate.
I jump for joy in puddles
Thinking, there should be
A lamppost standing by,
For me to dance around.

I took part in the Bike ‘n’ Hike today, raising funds to maintain local historic churches. 24 churches visited over 34 miles, over 2.5 hours on the move. I’m out of practice, the legs turned to jelly after a bit, but thoroughly enjoyed myself.
(13.09.25)

© Ben Quant 2025

Poem 636 – Reunion

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In boxes on the top of a dusty wardrobe
lie old friends, preserved and stacked with care.
Plastic cases side by side, a musical trip
down memory lane. Tonight, we met again,
and dusting down our glad rags took to the floor,
exchanged our news and played our songs once more.

This evening I ‘rediscovered’ some boxes of CDs packed away on top of a shelf in my office, a musical record of the last 30 years or so.
(11.09.25)

© Ben Quant 2025

Poem 635 – They’re Back!

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A torrent of toddlers teaming in,
A stream of squealing, screaming sound,
A shouting, shoal of shiny din.
Pouring past our open doors,
Abandoning bags and boots around,
And flowing onto every floor.
Playdough, crayons and other craft,
Friendships on a seesaw found,
Filling the church with fun and laughter.
After the break we’re back on track,
So look out folks, toddlers are back!

Our toddler group returned today after the summer holidays. It was wonderful to have them back.
(10.09.25)

© Ben Quant 2025
Photo by E Hillsley on Unsplash

Poem 633 – Signs of Life

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Did you know a house can die? It’s true.
Our neighbour died and like a loyal pet,
his house began to pine, the peeling paint
its tears, and spreading weeds its growing grief.
As beams decayed its backbone bent all hunched,
and boarded up, sad eyes began to close.
But even then the faintest pulse remained,
the finest thread of life tied on to hope,
a flicker waiting for resuscitation.
Today that longed for life at last moved in.

Going for an evening walk tonight, we notice that we have new neighbours.
(08.09.25)

© Ben Quant 2025
Photo by Untitled Photo on Unsplash

Poem 632 – Cocktail Maths

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Can two and two make five?
Depends on who you ask.
A mathematician? No way!

George Orwell? Ask Big Brother…
A parent? Might seem so.
But me? I’m sure it can.

Mix two congregations
and stir to make a drink
tastier than the sum.

Or start a conversation
between two different lands,
and all will be enriched.

A single flag is good
but I prefer a mashup
of loads of different ones.

It’s been a good day! A joint service to start with, an afternoon conversation with friends from our Conversation Café, and praying for local asylum seekers to end the day.
(07.09.25)

© Ben Quant 2025
Photo by Kobby Mendez on Unsplash

Poem 631 – The Uncommon Newt

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A mottled S written upon the ground,
I found you clearing away the fallen leaves
amongst the detritus by the garden fence.

Poised, legs apart, a perfect miniature,
you stood perfectly still with eyes fixed forwards,
a statue carved perhaps from cold hard flint.

Mutually locked in a Medusa stare, we found ourselves
stationary, afraid to make the other start.
I lost and turned. Perhaps you remain there still.

The final throes of summer sent me gardening this afternoon.
(06.09.25)

© Ben Quant 2025
Photo Kristian Peters CC BY-SA 3.0

Poem 630 – A Chinese Moveaway

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A few months into university
I’d got used to you being away.
The house was ours again and, during
the working day, just mine. I’d play my music
loudly without the risk of disturbing you
and watch whatever I wanted to at lunch.
Is it wrong to say that it was good?
But Covid called and back you came. And stayed.
Today you put an offer on a house
and I am so, so thrilled for you, I am.
But I find inside that I’m not so ready
to say goodbye. An empty house no longer
seems as liberating as before.
I’m sure that I’ll get used to it, I will,
but today just feels a little sweet and sour.

Change is on the horizon.
(05.09.25)

© Ben Quant 2025
Photo by Erda Estremera on Unsplash

Poems 629 – Action Hero Gospel

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Opening the cover marks the start
Of an adventure into the unknown.
Who knows what waits between its sheets?
Entire countries lie within.

Like contour lines the black and white
Align to mark its ups and downs.
The turns and bends we find therein,
Those tricky twists, guide and surprise us.

The pace leaves us breathless in wonder
We struggle to keep up with the action.
Turning the page, we find that Christ
Has roared on to the next horizon.

We started a series of evenings tonight exploring Mark’s Gospel with a group of church-goers and non-church-goers. A great conversation with valuable insights from everyone.
(04.09.25)

© Ben Quant 2025
Photo by Ales Krivec on Unsplash