Weather

Poem 444 – Light Rain Predicted

/ BenDQ / Leave a comment

It says light rain, and so it is,
but can a rain that does not stop,
that pours relentlessly, a grey
insipid, haze of wet that soaks
through coats, and trouser pockets where
they drain, be ever truly light?
It is so fine it makes its way
through every pour and crevice that
present themselves, from seams to button
holes, and zips to ears and noses.
It says light rain, but I’m weighed down
my clothes and spirits drenched and heavy.

It looks like a long weekend of rain ahead… (For transparency’s sake, thankfully I’ve been in the inside looking out at the rain, imagining, so don’t feel sorry for me!)
(14.11.25)

© Ben Quant 2025

Poem 710 – The Nottingham Coast

/ BenDQ / Leave a comment

This gentle green descends towards the horizon
which laps around its edge in waves of cloud.
Surprisingly, the playful sun is out, its
autumnal heat washes over us,
awakening birds that shriek in joyful play.
We walk, my father and I, along the hedgerows
reaching like groynes into the fields, alert
to fungi, berries and other harvest gifts.
Strolling along this Nottingham coast we let
it roll over our toes with grateful thanks.

Dad and I went for a delightful walk in the Nottingham countryside today, regretting in the surprisingly summer-like weather.
(06.10.25)

© Ben Quant 2025
Photo by Ries Bosch on Unsplash

Poem 630 – New River in the Rain

/ BenDQ / Leave a comment

The trees’ reflections are stirred,
obscured by whirling eddies
that form along the bank.
Concentric circles overlap,
and dancing dissipate.
Delineation blurs as
the air moistens, merging
with the flow below.
Darting swifts live up to
their names catching disturbed
insects on the wing.
Suspended spiders’ webs,
glistening silver-plated,
adorn the grassy fence,
whilst blackberries, freshly washed,
hang low from laden branches,
dressed in mourning tones.
A cormorant smiles and dives,
oblivious to the tears.

It’s down to rain all day, but regardless, we snatched a walk between deluges along the New River, built to feed water to London to the south. My new raincoat kept the rain out.
(19.07.25)

© Ben Quant 2025
Photo by Jackie Best on Unsplash

Poem 621 – Too Hot!

/ BenDQ / Leave a comment

More poems on le Tour you say?
It may have to wait another day.
It’s too hot you see, too hot for me,
I don’t know how they do it!
Relentless peddling in the heat
Remorselessly chasing as they compete
For the yellow jersey, at the end of the journey,
As only one can don it!

Yesterday’s poem provoked the comment that there should be more poems on the Tour de France. A silly response at the end of a hot day.
(10.07.25)

© Ben Quant 2025
Photo by Christian Chrome on Unsplash

Poem 612 – Heatwave

/ BenDQ / Leave a comment

The still summer sky is blue, clear blue,
The blue you imagine water to be as a child.
High above, a kite hangs. It’s effortless.
Swifts circle, our annual visitors making themselves at home.
Stupefied, nothing is moving here below.
We slowly melt upon our chairs and moan,
‘the heat!’ …Oh to dive into the blue.

Waiting for the heatwave to break and sleep to return.
(01.07.25)

© Ben Quant 2025
Photo by Aron Schmitz on Unsplash

Poem 477 – Mother Sun

/ BenDQ / 1 Comment

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