Poem 226 – The Sixth Day

Dec 31, 2023Sep 5, 2024 / BenDQ / Leave a comment

The ghost of Gerrit grumbles through our garden,
its urgent whispers whipping leaves away
in merry dances, diving down amongst the
branches before rebounding skywards.
Above, the languid light retreats, leaving
our cloud shrouded landscape down below;
its inhabitants hiding behind curtain covered
windows, seeking warmth from winter’s cold.

A piece of alliterative verse inspired by a gloomy day between Christmas and New Year, with the weather still affected by the tail end of Storm Gerrit.
(30.12.23)

Poem 221 – Between

Dec 9, 2023 / BenDQ / Leave a comment

The sun hesitates;
the damp ground is left longing.
This seasonal purgatory is
an advent pause that’s caught
between what was and what’s to come.
A time to hold our breath
and wait in faith and hope.

Walking back from taking a Christmas assembly at school earlier this week, I was struck by how gloomy it was. The day hadn’t quite managed to begin, and probably wouldn’t do so before night set in.
(09.12.23)

Poem 220 – Winter’s Bite

Dec 1, 2023Dec 1, 2023 / BenDQ / Leave a comment

This morning’s frost looked beautiful but
it bites my neck and makes my muscles ache.
My fingers have become a fading white.
My breath’s condensing on my nose. It drips.
I brew more cups of tea to warm within
but even this becomes draining,
necessitating even more trips to the bathroom.
I fear to look in the mirror.
Will anything be there? Or is, as I suspect,
the cold in truth a thirsting vampire with
its fangs open in sharp and siphoning anger.

It’s cold…
(01.12.23)

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 165 – At the Edge

Jan 31, 2023 / BenDQ / Leave a comment

The nip of winter tarries
But spring has tentatively
Emerged to test the waters
One toe at first, before
It casts aside its towel
And joyously commits to
An eruption of colour and life
One glorious bellyflop!

The days are beginning to stretch. Bulbs are putting out their feelers. The car didn’t need scraping this morning…
(31.01.23)

Poem 160 – Four Faced

Jan 14, 2023Jan 14, 2023 / BenDQ / Leave a comment

A pool of many personalities.
    Its winter water takes a earthy shade
    Of darkened substance, solid, birds can wade
Upon its surface, under weary trees.
Last month it shivered, sharp, began to freeze
    And whilst the shrieking scarf-wrapped children played,
    Across it’s face an ice-white mask was laid,
Its morgue-like stillness made us ill at ease.
But soon the hope of life will bud and spring,
    The water turn, aping the light’ning skies,
And nests constructed, frisky foul will play.
    Look, summer migrants come on tired wings!
Descend, this paradise their temporary prize,
    For now, its Janus face, a place to stay.

Today, as is often our practice, we went for a stroll around Lea Valley’s lakes. These water filled pits are constantly fluid, their faces changing with the season. Today they were dark and moody, matching their muddy banks. Another sonnet.
(14.01.23)

© Ben Quant 2023

Poem 153 – Blank Canvas

Dec 13, 2022 / BenDQ / Leave a comment

This is a liminal place,
Where sky and earth do meet,
And merge in bright harmony.
Autumn’s colours spent,
Erased, left brilliant white,
Perhaps, a new beginning?
A chance to make our mark,
Afresh. Along with spiders,
Who have already traced,
The outline of each edge
In brittle silk, picked out
And sparkling, crystalline.

Yesterday we woke to find Lea Valley submerged in snow. Beautiful and mysterious. On our afternoon walk, at each turn I expected to find Mr Tumnus, but alas he never showed, only the muntjac deer and robins. We did not return, however, disappointed.
(13.12.22)

© Ben Quant 2022

Poem 152 – Sharp December

Dec 8, 2022 / BenDQ / Leave a comment

The paper air is sharp
Airways are invaded
Eyes begin to water
Cold smears across my face
Malicious needles prick
In bitter unison
My feet go numb and die
A death by a thousand cuts

This morning’s North wind brought a bitter bite alongside Jack Frost’s winter beauty.
(08.12.22)

Poem 147 – November Walk

Nov 30, 2022 / BenDQ / Leave a comment

Four pm. November walk along
The Lea, the light is fading fast and all
Is dim. Like children’s plasticine the colours
Merge, the palate turns to shades of brown.
The sky blends with the gently lapping waters.
By naked trees who’ve shed, their colours bleed.
The air is mute, its voice is muffled, dull,
Only the Christmas lights dare interject.
From bankside windows, hope defiant flickers.

To end a period of Covid isolation, I took a walk along the River Lea this afternoon. I’ll never get bored of how the same stretch of water changes throughout the year. I didn’t think to take a photo, this one is from the same time last year, towards the river.
(30.11.22)

Poem 95 – The Scandal of Spring

Feb 23, 2022 / BenDQ / Leave a comment

Without our noticing, the velvet bud
Protrudes. This act of annual resurrection
From naked branch to clothed, a strip tease in
Reverse, so tantalising in modesty.
Before long, it will be scandalously dressed.

The bite of winter receding, our fruit trees are coming back to life once more.
(23.02.22)

© Ben Quant 2022

Ode for the Day

An experiment in poetic doodling

Seasons