I remember the cringiness
of watching parents dance.
Last night I realised
those dancers are now me.
At a party last night, I realised I’m not one of the ‘old’ people dancing…
(13.10.24)
© Ben Quant 2024
Photo by Baptiste MEREL on Unsplash
Dancing
Poem 230 – The Writer’s Dance
I like the feel of pen on paper,
the tactile bond that forms between
the brain and movement, thought and fingers,
as words are traced upon the sheet.
This physical description is
the only form of dance in which
I can partake because the rhythm
is not determined by my feet.
I treated myself to the luxury of a reMarkable tablet this Christmas, to try and combine the tactile thinking of physical writing and the convenience of computing. This was my opening trial run with it.
(08.01.24)
© Ben Quant 2023
Original photo by Thought Catalog on Unsplash
Poem 200 – The Wedding Dance Floor
Last night I danced all night.
Today I have no voice
and blisters on my toes
to witness my exploits.
It may have been a case of
defiant dad dancing
but do I care? Do I?
No, not at all! For those
few hours I lost myself
within the moment.
Earlier this month I had the joy of attending the wedding of a couple I know through church. It was a wonderful day for a wonderful couple. The disco was great fun too – I only hope I didn’t put others off… I wrote this at the time and have finally dusted it off and made it presentable.
(30.08.23)
© Ben Quant 2023
Photo by Greyson Joralemon on Unsplash
Ode for the Day 