Death

Poem 1016 – When I’m Gone

/ BenDQ / Leave a comment

The world will still turn round each day,
The Sun and Moon will dance their dance,
Gravity will constant tug,
The tide flow in and then depart.

My absence will be soon forgotten,
Opinions once so clear will pass,
My footprints will all fade from sight,
And passions strong no longer last.

So what remains for me today,
When all is just a fleeting song?
Seeking to be a harmonious note,
Amongst the divergent musical throng.

Written whilst in the queue for The Globe. There’s something about standing here in London by the Thames that reminds me of our temporary nature as humans. So much has been here for far longer than I have and will continue long after I’m gone.
(27.09.26)

© Ben Quant 2026
Photo by Ana Paula Grimaldi on Unsplash

Poem 442 – Life Cycles

/ BenDQ / Leave a comment

Past.
The tree drank deeply of the earth’s dark soil,
its roots absorbing water from secret distant pools.
Stretching its wooden limbs it reached out branches,
all striving for the shining sun’s bright rays.
From sapling to its full grown majesty
it slowly grew, unfurling limbs then leaves.

Present.
This table’s dead; no sap or life flow here.
Its extendable leaves now lie in twisted pieces;
they’re warped by age and wear and wrenched by boots.
Redundant, I throw the separated branches
into the boot to drive it to the dump,
hurling them into the designated coffin.

Future.
The future is as yet uncarved, unknown.
Will it be pulped, transformed to card or paper?
Or maybe mulched, returning nutrients
back to the earth to nourish future roots?
Out of its greatness, greatness may return;
as earth to earth, from death comes life again.

From and afternoon spent taking old and broken furniture to the local ‘dump’ (recycling centre), sprang thoughts about the cycle of life.
(02.03.25)

© Ben Quant 2025
Photo by Jan Huber on Unsplash

Poem 172 – Life’s Cycle

/ BenDQ / Leave a comment

Tonight we buried a newt,
a cheeky chap who kept
his gills, those pink and flappy
fronds that waved hello.
A Peter Pan who stayed
in Neverland’s waters
from whence he cheered us on.
He’d flit and spin in joy
with energy unbounded,
confounding expectation.
Alas, eternal youth
ran out, Tick-Tock caught up.
We laid you by the pond
and as we did a nearby
dart alerted us to
the first newt of the spring.
The cycle begins again.

To Dennis, our delightful friend.

We have a small garden pond in our garden which became home to numerous young newts last year, some of whom were adopted and brought inside. Sadly one passed away yesterday. He’ll be missed.
(15.03.23)

© Ben Quant 2023
Photo by Piet Spaans shared under CC Licence 2.5

Poem 114 – Fading

/ BenDQ / Leave a comment

Here lies the stone that stood above my grave
Declaring this to be my resting place
But sadly it no longer has the strength
To stand and lies prostrate in peace like me

The lichen spreads rash-like across its face
Obliterating with the green ivy
My life, my wife, my children and my work
The final thoughts of those who paid the bill

Now who I was is legible no longer
As gradually the elements erode
The once clear words that hold me so
I slip from view and slowly pass from memory

We’ve been away for a few days, exploring my wife’s family tree. This involves visiting graveyards and poking around ancient churches. Straining to read old gravestones I wondered how we’re remembered when the writing’s finally gone.
(05.04.22)

© Ben Quant 2022