A late winter’s walk, a wander through
the misty wood before the spring arrives.
Above, hidden within the white damp veil,
a riot erupts of raucous birds aroused
by the promise of pending season change ahead.
Their chatter chimes like church bells summoning
the buds to bloom, confetti blossom showers
that freshly fill the air with fragrant colour.
Our Sunday afternoon walk was marked by the thick sound of birdsong.
(08.03.26)
© Ben Quant 2026
Photo by Doncoombez on Unsplash
The English spring, there is no greater joy!
The rising of the sun from its long sleep,
As garden birds full-throated song deploy
And glorious colour from undercover peeks.
Bodies relax, no longer stiff from cold,
Emotions thaw, our smiles at last return,
And up above the new-born leaves unfold
As from their time-shares swallows now adjourn.
Immediately our backs are shorn of shirts,
The annual quest for tans begins apace.
We know the fickle sun will soon desert us
And new found skin tone quickly start to fade.
Today the skies are blue, tomorrow grey,
Look storm clouds are already on their way.
There’s nothing more predictable then the English spring! It’s been a lovely day today, but who believes that this will last….
(24.02.26)
© Ben Quant 2026
Photo by Aniket Bhattacharya on Unsplash
Abandoned, redundant woolen gloves lie prone
upon the hallway floor beyond the door.
A lone daffodil pokes its yellow face
above the muddy grass to meet the Sun.
This unexpected sight (the Sun or flower?) is
a hint of spring after the long, damp, drag
of February, whilst on the path earthen
stains are fading like guilty fingerprints.
Suddenly today, the seasons seem to be turning. No doubt this is but a brief interlude, but it suggests the end’s in sight.
(22.02.26)
© Ben Quant 2026
Photo by Aaron Burden on Unsplash
The newborn sunshine warms the sleeping foal.
With winter’s labour done, its early rays
accompany the horse’s early breaths.
Lying content and totally at peace
its chest rises and falls, filling with life
under its constant mother’s patient gaze.
This afternoon we took a walk across the River Lea, and stumbled across the site of a new born foal sleeping under the early spring sun.
(06.04.25)
© Ben Quant 2025
The sun rises, and with it rise our spirits,
its warmth begins to thaw our dormant souls.
Woken from their winter hibernation,
emerging smiles begin to bud then flower.
Above the bird song swells in volume and richness,
and here below our voices respond in kind.
Funny how all it takes to wash away
the blues are blue skies, blazing with glorious gold.
This week, Spring has sprung.
(06.03.25)
© Ben Quant 2025
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)
© Ben Quant 2023
Photo by Oliver Sjöström on Unsplash
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 