Poem 496 – Morning Invasion

Apr 25, 2025Nov 26, 2025 / BenDQ / Leave a comment

The rising sun invades through sycamore branches,
its spotlight picking out a lonely snail,
bedecked in stark contrasting coloured spirals.
The Sun’s dazzling white enlivens grenades
of glass dropped onto the lawn’s lengthening stalks.
Spider zip wires, momentarily made visible,
transverse, fragile yet strong, will shortly vanish.
A gang of boisterous sparrows playing tag
fill me with delight as they shout and switch.
Soon they’ll wake the flowers, who somehow slumber
oblivious to this squadron’s raucous games.
This fleeting action is invigorating.
I drink it deeply, let it permeate,
and pray it will sustain me through the day.

A snapshot through the window this morning as I ate my breakfast. Reading Robert MacFarlane’s introduction to Nan Shepherd’s ‘The Living Mountain’, I’ve been encouraged to look deeper at my surrounds.
(25.04.25)

© Ben Quant 2025
Photo by Önder Andinç on Unsplash

Poem 240 – A New Day

Apr 18, 2024 / BenDQ / Leave a comment

The subtle scent of freshly woken grass
and crispness of the sky arrest me as
the door is opened on the dawning day.
Sparrows, already up, are catching the
proverbial early worm and the morning’s gossip;
the air is thickened with excited chatter.
Jostling students join them, calling out
greetings to newcomers in their growing flock.
I remember being in their number.
But now is not for melancholy thoughts or
nostalgic longing for carefree childhood days.
I wave goodbye to my departing wife
and note the soft cool air that curls around
my naked ankles; I’m still in my pajamas,
time to wash the night away and dress.
Cat Stevens comes to mind and Etch-a-Sketch
where with one swipe the old is wiped away
and the new is ushered in.

The smell of dew dampened grass greeted me as my wife left for work this morning, bringing with it the fading refrain of Morning Has Broken sung at a recent funeral.
(18.04.24)

Poem 231 – Opening Act

Jan 10, 2024 / BenDQ / Leave a comment

Serial splashes mark dog walkers passing.
One whooping swan flies overhead alone;
its powerful wings, outstretched and proud,
propel with purpose. I wonder at its passing.
The weary winter sun ascends reluctant
from its cloudy bed, as do commuters,
cocooned within their padded hats and coats.
The lake sits, an empty stage awaiting the
entry of its residents, as does the day,
whose curtains open up before me.

This was written after accompanying my son on his morning ride to catch the commuter train to work.
(09.01.24)

Poem 210 – Autumn Mornings

Oct 25, 2023 / BenDQ / Leave a comment

Zoe Ball speaks and yet the world is dark?
I double check in case the clock deceives.
Alas, it doesn’t. Zombie-like I rise.
The morning’s urgency has drained away,
its greyscale smear a strain upon my soul.
Even our pot plants share this weariness;
their flowers droop, they hang their heads in shame,
and outside in the dark the trees stand bare.

I’m not a morning man. Our alarm clock plays Radio Two to wake us up. It now sounds before the sun rises. This is not a good combination.
(25.10.23)

Poem 127 – Morning Dew

May 12, 2022 / BenDQ / Leave a comment

The unmown grass glistens. It’s chains of pearls,
Now celebrated by the avian choir,
Capture the morning’s fresh baptism of
Revitalising light and tender water.
Here briefly, under the sun’s hazy, gaze
Lost Paradise breaks through once more.
I drink deeply and drain my glass in prayer
And linger whilst I can before it fades.

It was a delight, this morning, to fling open the doors during my morning cup of tea.
(12.05.22)

Ode for the Day

An experiment in poetic doodling

Morning