The warmth picks its spot,
Carefully centres its cross hairs,
And squeezes on the trigger
Gradually the pressure builds
And joyfully radiates
From this central bull’s-eye.
Massaging the tender
Muscle, it coaxes it to
Relax and begin to smile.
I pulled something in my back a couple of days ago. I’ve no idea when or how, it just suddenly was! Sitting by the inside pool, however, the sun performs wonderful therapy.
(07.11.24)
© Ben Quant 2024
I have never seen
so many pregnant men
lying on the beach
roasting in the sun
I was going to write about Trump, but that was too depressing.
(06.11.24)
© Ben Quant 2024
We are surrounded by so many faces.
I play the game of guess the nationality.
Sometimes I get it right but most not.
‘That’s an American’ becomes a Swede;
the Pole is Portugese; the Irish, Dutch,
the ‘dead-cert German’, a Geordie; and every
other transpires to be a Liverpudlian.
On this day when we remember Guido,
perhaps this ambiguity matters most.
There is great people watching to be had at the hotel at mealtimes…
(05.11.24)
© Ben Quant 2024
A line of bird-like steps
strut confidently up the cliff-face,
towards its sandstone crest.
With toes outsplayed, they tread
through time, a shadow traced
on ancient tracks and paths.
Relentlessly, the waves
crash onwards, their roar
an echo of past voices.
Once permanent, now fleeting,
these footprints quickly fade,
the tide flows out, they’re gone.
Today we went dinosaur footprint hunting on the coastline near Albufeira. We found them, but they were already much eroded. (https://www.portugalresident.com/dinosaur-footprints-uncovered-at-albufeira-beach/)
(04.11.24)
© Ben Quant 2024
The sound of seagull shrieks, their ow, ow, oowl,
pierces through the swooshing wind and waves.
The hanging horizon, hazes into infinity;
its rolling waves reflect the rising sun.
A gentle warmth whispers around my ankles,
a welcome relief from home’s oncoming winter,
whilst the taste of breakfast, lingers on my tongue,
just as we lazily lingered over it. The scent
of salty ocean, a siren call, summons us
to stroll along its stretch and search its pools.
I’m writing, sat on our room’s balcony, admiring the southern Portugal coast.
(03.11.24)
© Ben Quant 2024
.
This face is weary but its smile
Expresses it all having travelled miles.
To finally arrive and leave behind,
The travails of demanding times,
Exchanged for days of expectation,
Of sunny days and relaxation,
Lightens the step and lifts the soul
Brings life and joy and hope all told.
Day one of our holiday in Portugal. The 4.15am alarm call was not appealing, but was totally and utterly worth it.
(02.11.24)
© Ben Quant 2024
Suncream, have you packed the suncream yet?
And a mac in case it rains, because it will.
And don’t forget the currency and tickets,
As if that’s something I would ever do!
A laugh at the passport photos, a line up of
Stern looking criminals on holiday.
Clothes for hot and cold, a stack of books.
Let’s tidy up in case a burglar looks.
Who’s going to have the pets while we are gone?
Is there enough fuel to get us there and back?
Has anyone seen my trunks since last time around?
And just what was the combination to my lock…
Do you really think you’ll get all those shoes to fit?
Along with the charger spaghetti that’s tied itself
in knots? It’s only a week we’re going for…
You do? But only if I sit on it.
It’s time to go, let’s go, go, go!
You’re kidding, what do you mean you’re not ready yet?
You’ve had all week just like the rest of us.
We’ll wait in the car and get the SatNav set.
Don’t slam the door! Be quiet let me think!
What do you mean? Of course you can breathe it’s just
A small suitcase or two upon your lap.
What’s that? The tickets? What do you mean they’re lost….
After a really busy season we’re taking a break. Some of the above is based on painful memories…
(01.11.24)
© Ben Quant 2024
Photo by Eminent Luggage on Unsplash
I am haunted, accompanied by ghosts,
the shadows from my past that lived and laughed
with me, shared my life, my joys and struggles.
These shades have made me who I am, they are
my friends, my skin, my thinking and my guides.
They aren’t to be exorcised but celebrated,
recognised, remembered, invited in.
At Halloween I celebrate my friends and family that went before me.
(31.10.24)
© Ben Quant 2024
Photo by Erik Müller on Unsplash
The human mystery, the cryptic puzzle
of what makes minds and bodies tick.
The tick, tock, tick of chemical
reactions and emotional responses.
The mystery that makes us, us,
that charges love and triggers thought.
Conference is done and I’m home relaxing to House MD.
(30.10.24)
© Ben Quant 2024
Photo by Catherine Hughes on Unsplash
We’re on the road to…
Somewhere, but we don’t quite know
Exactly where yet!
The second day of our church movement’s annual conference is done, and so am I – I help run it and only ever make it through with a combination of adrenaline, caffine and prayer! We’re on a journey over the three days of thinking about where we’ve come from, where we are, and where we might be heading next.
(29.10.24)
© Ben Quant 2024
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LQiOA7euaYA
Photo by rafa espada on Unsplash
Ode for the Day 