Writing

Poem 788 – Don’t Steal Away the Magic

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Don’t take away the lure
of hidden woodland trails;
the wonder of a mystery
and striving for the grail.
Don’t steal away the magic.

Come let us wrestle monsters
with unpronounceable names.
and write our very own fables
in our own peculiar way.
Don’t steal away the magic.

Just sad or glad? You’re mad!
Please don’t confine our diction.
Throw out restraint, be free
with extravagant description.
Don’t steal away the magic.

Come, why restrict us to
perfectly formed cats and ham,
when instead we could have pizza
and misspelt dragon flan?
Don’t steal away the magic.

When words are an invitation,
a doorway to adventure,
who would decline the offer
and toss away invention?
Don’t steal away the magic.

Written in response to discussions with a teacher today.
(10.02.26)

© Ben Quant 2026
Photo by Tom Hermans on Unsplash

Poem 712 – Grant Writing

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Drafting grant applications,
I find I’m spewing word,
after word, after word, until
the screen is full of letters.
They blur into a splurge
of unattractive text,
a monolith of blackness.
I need to slash the text,
reduce the count and find
a way to make it more
succinct, engaging. I wonder,
should I try poetry
instead of prose? Or should
I go full Bob and simply
scrawl, ‘GIVE US YER MONEY!’

Following on from yesterday’s poem, on top of seasonal activity, I’m also writing grant applications for our church redevelopment project.
(26.11.25)

© Ben Quant 2025
Photo by Glen Carrie on Unsplash

Poem 551 – Six Hundred & Counting

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I only meant to write a poem,
A simple rhyme to celebrate the day,
A one off, no more than that.
I didn’t mean to blow the bloody doors off,
Or take the world by storm,
Or change the world one verse at a time.
On that score I guess I succeeded!
But here I am six hundred poems later
And it seems I’m unable to stop.
Like a wave that keeps on rolling,
I keep on washing stanzas on the shore,
And splashing innocent bystanders
With iambic spray or alliterative verse.
So here’s to rolling up my socks
And paddling in poetry
For just a little longer.

I had no idea that those few lines written for National Poetry Day in 2021 would be the start of something.
(19.06.25)

© Ben Quant 2025
Photo by Jeremy Bishop on Unsplash

Poem 405 – Rhyme Around The Clock

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Better late than never,
My daily attempt at rhyme,
This stab at wordsmith rhythm only
Squeezes in on time.

A jazzy slate of syllables,
Alliteration rock,
It finally makes its debut on
The last seconds of the clock.

The metronome helps meter
Iambic beats combine
And with a crash of consonants
We make the end bar line.

Home alone, I got distracted playing my guitar, and almost forgot my daily poem…
(24.01.25)

© Ben Quant 2025
Photo by Kobby Mendez on Unsplash

Poem 382 – This Year

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This year I will not leap out of
a plane for charity,
nor scale a tree topped mountain summit
or swim across the sea.

I bet my debut novel still
will probably not get written,
and surely I won’t be packing theatres
with jokes and witticism.

I will not gain a medal or
some gong in the New Year’s Honours,
I plan not to feature in the news
for being some crazed wrong ‘un.

Instead my New Year’s resolution
is simply to see it through,
and on the way to write a poem
every day or two…

This year, other than getting grants for the church redevelopment, I have no special objectives or challenges planned, except the personal challenge of regularly posting poems throughout the year. Can I do one a day throughout 2025?
(01.01.25)

© Ben Quant 2025
Photo by Vincent Burkhead on Unsplash

Poem 373 – Searching for Verse

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Sometimes a poem arrives unbidden
You’re simply minding your own business
And in it barges unrequested.

On other occasions you start to write
And hunting with your pen you stumble
Over it’s fully formed treasures.

And sometimes you have to fight for it
Like Jacob, refusing to let go
Of it until you receive its blessing.

Inspiration is a slippery thing…
(04.12.24)

© Ben Quant 2024
Photo by Jan Kahánek on Unsplash

Poem 284 – Tied Up In Knots

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Today I’m trying to write a villanelle,
A poetic form with many tortured lines.
The truth of the matter? It’s not going well.

The rhyming pattern’s also one hard sell,
So don’t go picking words with limited rhymes.
Today I’m trying to write a villanelle.

There’s also certain lines you must retell,
A complicated web you must combine.
The truth of the matter? It’s not going well.

I suppose it’s a form of poets’ show and tell,
‘Look at me, my verse you’ll find’s sublime!’
Today I’m trying to write a villanelle.

The mental strain is making me unwell,
Such grappling with a devious design.
The truth of the matter? It’s not going well

So if you can these challenges dispel,
Perhaps for you it could be worth your time.
Today I’m trying to write a villanelle,
The truth of the matter? It’s not going well…

Watching TV this evening Dylan Thomas’ ‘Do not go gentle into that good night’. Remembering it is a villanelle, I had to have another go at writing one.
(06.09.24)

© Ben Quant 2024
Photo by Eric Prouzet on Unsplash

Poem 282 – A Poem

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A metaphor,
a playing with words,
or perhaps a simile,
a play upon words.
An idea beyond
prose definition.
A reaching for
elusive description.
A window pane
or mirrored glass.
A way to express
that which is past.
A captured dream
or aspiration.
An act of resistance,
freedom exclamation.
The deepest pool
or giggling brook.
Sublime or silly,
an alternative look.
A joyful craft or
frustrating art.
Both easily learnt
and always hard.

Thinking about what to write, today I found myself pondering the nature of a poem and its craft.
(04.09.24)

© Ben Quant 2024