Tripped by the time gap
Now discombobulated
Diary out of sync
It’s only a two hour difference but I’m wanting food at all the wrong times.
(15.04.26)
© Ben Quant 2026
Holiday
Poem 851 – Güle Güle Ölüdeniz
A chittering call and in the Martin sweeps,
an elegant swerve beneath the open eaves,
curving with ease around the wooden trees
that hold our roof. It teases us, one sweeping
dive and then another, until it flits
from view and disappears. We hold our breath
hoping to see it reappear. We wait.
Finally we find it upon a rafter,
the nest in which it sits feeding its young.
We watch with joy, pointing it out to others
until it makes its move and leaves. We wave.
Soon after, we too disappear into
the world, swooping from our temporary
perch,
to fly across blue seas, returning home.
Every day we’ve watched Martins flying in and out of the restaurant, wandering where they went to. Today we finally found out just before we left.
(14.04.26)
© 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 848 – Knock-Offs R Us
It’s time to buy the New’est Looks,
Stock up on all the latest fashions,
There’s only one place we can go,
We’re off to Delboy’s International!
And after that perhaps John Leviz,
For modern homeware and cigarettes,
Then Adidaz and Skeechers trainers,
With Gücci bags from Sportz Direkt.
And last of for holy luggage,
Try Jesus’ bags and leatherware,
Admire his creepy mannequins, for
The best fakes found almost anywhere…
There are some gloriously named stores and fakes in Olüdeniz. I’m not convinced that Sainsbury’s is part of the well know chain either…
(11.04.26)
© Ben Quant 2026
Poem 847 – Olüdeniz Lagoon
Iridescent kingfisher blue lined with
a sandy olive, tints of turquoise flow
from gentle sea tide ripple. Shoals of silvery
fish, inquisitive and supple, dance
between our legs and toes, as silhouettes
repeat upon the shimmering bed below.
The air is warm, a tint of azure salt
upon the lip, dreamy seasoning
intruding into true. We dive on in.
Today we revisited the lagoon where we came a few years ago with the Alsatians that adopted us. A beautiful place.
(10.04.26)
© Ben Quant 2026
Poem 845 – A Türkiye Sundae
The tips of Turkish mountains rise above
the whipped cream clouds. Upon their ivory crests
the trees appear like sprinkled treats. I long
to taste their paths and tread their ancient streets.
What gain in winding around its many layers;
consuming but never making it to their end?
The unexpected view of nature’s gifts,
the joy of exercise and feeling spent.
The hills around Olüdeniz are calling. Planning a good walk in then at some point during the week we’re here on the old Lycian Way.
(08.04.26)
© Ben Quant 2026
Poem 844 – Soon After Take Off
The wings extend, reaching for the horizon.
There the gentle earth curves from our sight,
whilst up above the hazy blue invites us
like freshly laundered duvets. We dive in.
Below the fields stretch out, a honeycomb
of every green from darkened moss to sun,
detailed by hedgerow lattices and throbbing
tarmac veins. Soon distant trees compress.
Lazily we rise and patterns change
blurring in their complexity and scope.
Individual fields combine. Gradually
we dissipate and all is reconciled.
Flying to Turkey on an unexpectedly sunny morning.
(07.04.26)
© Ben Quant 2026
Poem 698 – Stop Thief!
Last week I lost three hours.
This was careless I know,
But at some point along
The way, they were stolen,
Snatched from under my nose.
Whoever took them must
Have had a fit of remorse,
For yesterday, they sneaked
Them back, leaving my body
Confused and out of sorts…
My body’s more than a little discombobulated today (what a great word that is!)
(12.11.25)
© Ben Quant 2025
Photo by Caleb Toranzo on Unsplash
Poem 697 – Marmaris Blue
Back home the water’s never blue but here,
here it shines with an elusive tone that conjures
up memories of childhood colouring in.
Its iridescent casual lapping stands
in stark relief to the hillside that tears upwards,
ripping apart the sky with bauxite rust.
The sea’s alive, its gentle breathing teaming
with interweaving shoals of rolling fish
that dance in perfectly synchronized waves of life.
We sit absorbed by what we see, reluctant
to say farewell, but knowing that we must,
our mood tinged with farewell blue.
Inevitably the holiday has to end. I’m sad to say goodbye to its beautiful backdrop and hope to return another day.
(11.11.25)
© Ben Quant 2025
Poem 696 – The Little Things
A look of recognition,
A smile across the room,
A name remembered, used
In conversation’s flow.
An asking after mamma,
A joke about the wine,
Then checking in to see
That everybody’s fine.
The little things add up
To greater than their parts,
A trick for all to learn,
This is the waiter’s art.
We’ve been treated by Serkan and his colleagues at the restaurant here in Marmaris. They have given a real masterclass in how much difference small touches make. Thanks gents!
(10.11.25)
© Ben Quant 2025
Ode for the Day 