Maybe it’s the onslaught of Winter in southern Australia keeping me inside and on my devices, or maybe it’s a clearer goal and challenge for the future but, regardless, a few more poems have sprung out…

The first three poems came from a suggestion from a friend that I submit poems for a local competition aimed at children. I rarely write with such a young audience in mind, though my grandchildren have had to suffer my offerings on their birthdays over the years. After a little thought, these poems presented themselves…

Stuff to Do

The sun rises
Over the hill
You jump out of bed
To do whatever you will. 

But Mum and Dad disagree 
Saying you must do your jobs first
While outside the sun shines
And for play and fun you thirst. 

But deep down you do know
That Mum and Dad mean well
And that everyone has their stuff to do
Or the whole world will go to hell. 


Littler Ones

A little brother or sister can be such a pain
Following you around even in the rain
But when they look at you with eyes so big
You’re happy with them in the sandpit to dig. 

Or chase them around in the park
Playing and playing until it’s dark
At times it is very nice, though
To have moments when alone you go. 

Balance is a word I value 
A bit of this and that to see you through 
If the same things happen again and again
It would be so easy to go insane. 

So,  mainly, the younger ones I’ll tolerate 
Until, on my nerves they start to grate
And then I will turn to them saying
For time to myself I am praying. 


Getting Attention 

The world can be so big and scary 
We’re taught of strangers to be wary
But most people are very kind
And us kids’ noise they don’t mind. 

But in some places we need to be quiet 
Be calm and still, not start a riot
Hospitals are one such place
And in a library we don’t have a race. 

But there are many places we can shout
Even when lots of people are about 
On the school oval in our breaks
Or in a paddock when we see snakes. 

It’s hard for kids to learn all the rules
And polishing these up like little jewels
But trying to do this we all must
So adults know that us we can trust. 

And that when a loud noise we make
They should then notice take
For, at times, we need an adult hand
To help us on firm ground stand. 

Brian Matthews 29-5-26

On reflection, and with the cold continuing to discourage outdoor activities, I decided to submit a short story targetted at children…

The Middle One

Being the middle one in the family is no fun. My older sister, Charlotte (we call her Charlie but she doesn’t like that anymore so I only use it when I’m cross with her) is 13 (going on 20 my Mum says) and my younger brother Nigel is 6 and he’s an absolute pain in the butt but I get into big trouble for saying that. My name is Angus (I prefer Gus) and I’m 10 years old. My Dad’s name is Peter and he’s real old (40) and my Mum (Jane) is a bit younger (38).

We live in a country town south of Adelaide and all go to the local area school. Life is good for me, on the whole, but I really hate being the middle one in the family. Charlotte treats me like a baby and is always complaining to Mum and Dad about me. I do listen in to her and her friends’ conversations and use what I hear as ammunition in arguments with her and she’s always telling me to leave her alone and get out of her room which is not really fair since she barges into my room whenever she wants. Pain in the butt, Nigel, is always following me around and asking me to play with him, especially when I have friends around.

As I said, my life is pretty good. I play footy and cricket with my mates whenever I get the chance and spend hours on my bike riding around our neighbourhood, down to the creek or the beach and up and down some spectacular hills we have around here. I don’t get as much screen time as I’d like as Mum and Dad say it’ll “rot our brains” but I notice that both of them are often on WhatsApp or Facebook, you know, old timers’ social media. I love to watch YouTube clips of accidents and funny things that other kids do. I love playing on my mate’s Nintendo and am saving up for my own but it’s taking forever.

Anyway, what I really want to write about is how horrible it is being the middle one in the family. Some of my mates have three or four kids in their families but most, these days, are only one or two. When I’ve listened in to adult conversations I hear them say things like “it’s too expensive to have more than two kids” and I guess it is but, to be honest, I’m not all that clear on how much kids cost. I do know that being in the middle of the family is not much fun sometimes. I’m always being told to give my sister privacy or to “play nicely” with Nigel. It just isn’t fair. I never hear my parents say to others in the family “give Gus his privacy” or “play nicely with Gus”. I feel like “Piggy in the middle”.

It might be alright if some of my mates were more understanding when I complained about this but most of them just say that everyone has problems with their brothers or sisters. Why does nobody seem to understand me? One of my teachers has been quite good about this (Mrs. Andrews). She noticed that I was very down one day after my Dad had grumped at me for not looking after Nigel when he tripped over in the playground and I was supposed to be minding him. It was nice that she seemed to understand. She said she was from a big family and that she felt that the “middle kids” did miss out a bit but she told me that this gets better the older you get so I can’t wait to get older.

On the weekend, Charlotte had three friends over for a sleepover. What a nightmare that was! All that giggling and whispering and THE SINGING!! K-pop and 5SOS, such rubbish. And the makeup and hair and Charlotte just screamed at me when I went to see what all the racket was about. I can’t wait until I have some mates over and we can pay her back. And, because she had friends over, I had to keep Nigel occupied and away from them. I am so sick of playing Hungry Hippo and building Lego – I’m way too old for that stuff, though some of my mates are still into Lego.

At tea time on Saturday it all blew up. The girls were up one end of the table talking and giggling and I could tell they were making fun of me or, if not, it seemed like it. I asked them (politely I thought) to stop making fun of me and Dad told me I was being rude and that I should leave the table and think about my behaviour. We hadn’t even finished and Mum had made Nana’s special bread and butter pudding as a treat since the girls were visiting. Well, I just lost it and Mum and Dad got so cross at me that I just ran outside, hopped on my bike and rode away. I knew it was the wrong thing to do as it was getting dark and my bike doesn’t have lights but I could see well enough and off I went. I rode up a big hill at the end of our street without even stopping to rest, I was so angry.

And I shouted and shouted and eventually burst into tears (but don’t tell my mates that). I knew that I would be in trouble for going out without permission and for being rude at the table but I just didn’t care. I rode a long way before I stopped to rest. It was fully dark by then and the moon had not come up. I was thirsty and tired and my throat hurt from all of the shouting but I didn’t want to go home because I knew I’d be in trouble and that I’d have to apologise and there’d be some punishment. But, I was so miserable that I just didn’t care.

I knew that there was a park nearby where I could get a drink and so I rode there and had a big drink from a tap. After I cooled down from all of the riding I realised just how cold it was getting (it was early winter) and wondered how I was going to warm up as I had left in jeans and a t-shirt as it had been warm in the house. I just sat in the park sobbing.

I don’t know how long I sat there but it must have been quite a while because I was now very cold and the moon had come up. Luckily, it was almost a full moon and so I could see most things in the park, even away from the lighting near the amenities block. But I was surprised by many of the shapes that I could see in the darker parts of the park and some of them were moving. I told myself these must be kangaroos but some of the shapes looked super scary and there were many sounds that I couldn’t recognise. I became more and more scared and wished that I hadn’t got so mad and biked away from home.

While I was sitting on the ground, leaning against a tree, I noticed the headlights of a car coming down the road that went past the park. As the car got closer I realised it was my Dad’s Triton ute (he’s a plumber and has the usual tradie setup on the back so it was easy to recognise him). My first thought was to ride away and hide but he would have seen me and it wouldn’t have taken him much to catch up. I was tired and exhausted and so I stood up and walked toward him. I was surprised that he had found me so easily.

Dad got out of his ute and, after making a brief phone call, came toward me. I was not looking forward to this at all.
“Gus, is that you?” he said. His tone was even and he did not sound as furious as I expected. “How did you find me?” I asked and he told me that one of our neighbours, Mr Douglas, had seen me bolting up the street without lights and had rung Dad to tell him. That’s the thing about small country towns, whatever you do someone is watching. From that phone call Dad figured out the direction I was going in and thought he’d check out the park. “When I was a kid and ran away from home, I’d always go to a nearby park” he said. I was gobsmacked. “You ran away from home when you were a kid” I said. He told me that he did and that many kids run away from home when they’re upset.

He went on to tell me that, while he wasn’t a middle kid in his family, he did fight with his sister and, at times, would get so upset that he would run away. I couldn’t believe it. My aunt Michelle is a lovely person who never has a bad thing to say about anyone. Dad laughed when I told him that and told me a number of stories about things they had fought about. He even told me that when he was studying for exams in high school, his sister had been playing her transistor radio in her room and he had got so mad that he grabbed it from her and threw it on the floor. He had to explain to me what a transistor radio was as I’d never seen or heard of this before. Apparently, this was a bit of old technology that had originally belonged to his Mum (Nana) and his sister had found it and became quite attached to it for a while.

I told Dad that I was sorry for getting so angry and riding off and he gave me a big hug and explained to me that everyone gets angry sometimes and that it is easy to feel that you are the only who has some problems. He suggested to me that I talk about this some more to my friends so that I could find out more about the things that upset them in their families. Luckily, he had a nice warm blanket in the back of the dual cab ute and he wrapped me in this and put my bike in the back of the ute and drove me home.

I was most surprised when I got home and the whole family and the girls from the sleepover came outside to greet me. Even more surprising was that Charlotte ran up to me, threw her arms around me, hugged me strongly (how embarrassing)  and the girls all crowded around and told me they were sorry they had upset me and explained that they had been whispering about a boy at school they all liked and it was nothing to do with me. Mum then wrapped me in a huge hug and told me it was lucky Dad found me because they’d saved me some bread and butter pudding. I was stoked and couldn’t believe how well it had turned out. Nigel even wrapped his arms around me and told me how brave I was to go such a long way alone in the dark.
Of course, I didn’t get away absolutely free of any punishment. Dad and Mum asked me what punishment I thought I deserved and I thought about it for a minute and then suggested that I apologise to everyone and I wipe up the dishes for a week. They agreed that this was fair enough and it was all sorted.

I learned some important lessons that day. Firstly, that no matter how alone you feel about what is happening in your life, other people are probably having or have had similar experiences (who would have thought my Dad fought with Aunt Michelle?) and, secondly, it’s best to say how you’re feeling rather than “spitting the dummy” and running away. My sister and brother still bother me sometimes but I really try to take it in my stride, and either put up with it or say how I’m feeling.

Brian Matthews 29-5-26

And then one of my musical friends shared a meme on Facebook that bemoaned the costs for musicians who agree to do free musical performances for fundraisers and community events and this poem stuck its head out…

Fair Recompense 

It is so true 
These words I read
That the arts and music
Things that we all need
Earn for most artists 
So little on which they can feed. 

Of course, writing, drawing, playing and singing 
Feed the artists’ sense of being
But without the wherewithal to live
Leaves most of them agreeing 
That this is how it’s always been
As from poverty they’re fleeing. 

While there are some who do fortune achieve
And adulation from all around
It is so rare that we do see
A talented artist thus crowned. 
Even those who make a decent living
From art or music are rarely found. 

While many who contribute so little
Earn mountains of cash and more
Manipulating goods and markets
Selling all those weapons of war
While babies starve and people weep
The cost of Capitalism is way too steep. 

I dream of a time when resources are pooled
So that all may benefit and be free
Of the need to work at meaningless tasks
And each be enabled to their potential see
As we pursue our creative urges
So productive we would all be. 

Brian Matthews 2-6-26

Another Facebook Friend posted about the impact of cancer on individuals and their loved ones, something that has impacted many of us…

The Well of Grief

Disappearing into the well of grief
A common response to loss
As one day comes the thief
To on the scrap heap our loved one toss. 

Down we spiral with every day
Remembering that beloved face
The things they’d do and what they’d say
As toward some resolution we race. 

But no solution does appear
No switch to click to change it all
As we stand and face our fear
And on friends and family we do call. 

For grief is something best not faced alone
As through the mire we do swim
And death is something we must condone
Though love for our lost one does never dim. 

Brian Matthews 4-6-26

And, finally for this long post, a friend had said to me that, as I write poetry, why not have a go at writing songs and I decided to give that a try and have included my recording of the words I wrote (my apologies, sounds like a bit of a dirge)…

One big toy

This song I sing is not for you
I sing because I am not blue
I sing for all who life enjoy
Treating the world like one big toy. 

Yes, treating life like one big toy!
Asking others to enjoy…
So, I go through every day
Seeking out where I can play…

This does not mean pain I deny
Instead for hopefulness I try
Exploring the world for what I can see
Each tiny bird and massive tree.

Yes, treating life like one big toy!
Asking others to enjoy…
So, I go through every day
Seeking out where I can play…

Life passes by so quickly now
The sweat I wipe from my brow
People meet and hug each other 
Treating all like their brother. 

Yes, treating life like one big toy!
Asking others to enjoy…
So, I go through every day
Seeking out where I can play…

So, on this quest I shall go
Even though I’m sometimes slow
Haters and critics I’ll ignore
As my defences up I’ll shore.

Yes, treating life like one big toy!
Asking others to enjoy…
So, I go through every day
Seeking out where I can play…

From this position I won’t resile
Though at times I’ll take a while 
To through the mire plod and wade
Until my happiness is displayed…

Yes, treating life like one big toy!
Asking others to enjoy…
So, I go through every day
Seeking out where I can play…

Brian Matthews 4-6-26

I have visited the Flinders Ranges in the north of South Australia many times over the last 58 or so years. There is something about the scenery, the flora and fauna that has entrapped many artists, photographers and, this case a poet of sorts.

Currently, I am spending a second five day stint in a lovely, friendly caravan park in an almost dead town called Carrieton. The caravan park is sited in the old Carrieton Primary School with lovely views of the Flinders Ranges.

The first of my poems in this post are from prior to this trip, a number of months when my creative urges were infrequent as evidenced by the first poem…

The Gap

Half of February gone
And not one poem has appeared 
The creative sun has not on me shone
No pithy phrases have their heads reared. 

It is like this at times
Huge gaps in my writing 
Nowhere can I find the rhymes
And my free form just wilting. 

One of the issues is, I think
That little that I have to say
Appears important, my words they stink
Even those that are meant as play. 

Remind myself I need to do
That my poems help me process 
Thoughts that my synapses chew
So that my feelings I don’t repress. 

There you have it, a poem done
Even if the quality is a little lacking
My emotions don’t feel so alone
Once my brain I’ve finished hacking. 

Brian Matthews 15-2-26

Unfortunately, this did not unblock my creative urges but early in April I wanted to write something for my beloved stepdaughter Ashlea who has been very supportive of my poetry and has encouraged me to share it with others…

Ashlea’s Fortieth 

Forty years ago today, 
A little baby girl was born,
Such a tiny creature then,
The mantle of motherhood now worn. 

Though not all of that time
Did I know you,
I saw you from a little girl,
Into the dynamic woman you grew. 

Your positive attributes abound,
Compassion and empathy to the fore,
Kindness and consideration as well,
Honesty and truthfulness form your core. 

I am so grateful to have you,
Making my life so much better,
Wondering what it would be like,
To experience this richness never. 

Thank you for all you do,
For your family and beyond.
May your day be joyful,
And filled with things of which you’re fond. 

Brian Matthews 3-4-26

And, later in the month, a dear friend for 50 years offered his (and his lovely wife’s) help in overcoming a short term financial hurdle, an act for which I will be forever grateful…

Generosity 

The generosity of a friend is humbling
Offering a loan when no other choice appears
Minimising the act itself
Making me feel so valued. 

Financial challenges often appear 
But lately there is little respite 
From costs that inevitably arise
And those caused by a ‘Vanity War’. 

Common aphorisms abound
‘A friend in need is a friend indeed’
‘Neither a borrower nor a lender be’
True friendship cuts through these. 

Brian Matthews 22-4-26

And April brought another offering that developed out of gardening and the dawn walks my wife loves and a month of early morning swims…

The Senses

The smell of a frangipani flower
The pink flush of the dawn
Assailed by our senses’ power
Against complacency it does warn. 

So rich our lives can be
If only to these inputs we attend
Setting our minds free
Allowing our hearts to mend. 

Becoming bogged down by thoughts and fear
Does not allow our spirit to grow
But keeping sensory experiences near
Helps our inner self show. 

Focussing on the here and now
Not on the past or future 
Will help us figure out how
The wounds acquired we can suture. 

Brian Matthews 25-4-26

But, of course, I don’t always follow my own advice and let the little things get to me. A poem written helps…

Stressing Out

The stress builds
Waiting for a scheduled phone call
No surprise that it hasn’t come. 

Needing to get on with my day 
But nothing is going my way
I feel like a pressure cooker. 

Marking time until the relief valve blows
Feeling my blood pressure rise
Knowing that stressing doesn’t help. 

My stomach churns
My vision blurs 
Life can be such a bastard. 

Knowing that tomorrow I may laugh
At what a knot I got myself in
It will all be okay. 

Writing this helps a little 
Purposely taking the longer view 
Avoiding the minor irritants. 

Being aware that some people have real stress
Not these first world problems 
Everywhere people suffer. 

Worrying about where the next meal comes from
Keeping a roof over their family’s head
Survival itself can be a challenge. 

And I allow myself to worry 
About issues that will be resolved 
I must remember, this too shall pass. 

Brian Matthews 28-4-26

And then May brought a holiday to the Flinders Ranges and Yorke Peninsula (Tumby Bay). For reasons unknown to me, while Tumby Bay was lovely and relaxing with early morning walks and catching up with friends, no poetry emerged but a few sprung forth in the Flinders Ranges and a brief offering on my eldest granddaughter’s birthday…

Nature’s Offerings

Flies can be such a pest
Making it difficult to have a short rest 
Those little ones getting in your eyes
Up your nose and ears another prize. 

The beauty of our states north
Brooding ranges sallying forth
Creek beds cutting through the land
Usually with trees under which to stand. 

The moon so full in the night
Glittering stars until the light
A vast country in which we live
So rarely do we thanks for this give. 

Blinded by our obsession with things
Ignoring what, each day, nature brings
But each day some time can be found
To simply go outside and look around. 

Brian Matthews 4-5-26

I planned to write something about flies, but it went a bit sideways 

Alexa’s 16

It seems like yesterday 
When those wide curious eyes 
Tried to make sense of this world. 

But many years have passed 
And you have grown so tall
A young woman now. 

May you have a life of joy
Climb mountains that you choose 
Have a zest for living. 

Love Pop 
Written 10-5-26 for 16-5-26

And, back in the Flinders Ranges, raucous white parrots called Corellas prompted my final poem for this post…

Ah, the Corellas

Such a noisy bunch 
Flitting here and there
Looking for something to munch
Or maybe some excitement here. 

Few country towns have no flocks
Breeding prolifically as they do
Difficult to keep in their box
As on the trees they chew. 

In pairs they often sit
Grooming one another 
Quiet and resting for a bit
Until noisily they rise from cover. 

Then so raucous for awhile 
Rising up in such a mass
Swooping across another mile
Settling again as bold as brass. 

Brian Matthews 19-5-26

Nearing the end of our month and more in Hervey Bay, Queensland, and a few poems have emerged marking my thoughts about a range of events…

The first was prompted by an upbeat post on Facebook by a friend of over 30 years who humbles me by her resilience in the face of challenges that would leave many in despair. I recommend her books…

Facing the Future 

A new year comes again 
Hopeful that from violence all will refrain

And yet we are familiar with the statistics 
The death of women and so many by ballistics. 

It is hard to see the glass half full 
Though that is such a useful tool. 

But try to do this I exhort
A life lesson too seldom taught. 

But oft discovered amongst the mire
A trait that I, for one, admire. 

Wade through the dense foliage I will
Thanking those who encourage me still. 

By the way they meet their hassles 
Building such incredible castles. 

Surround yourself with people like this
It’s probably the best way to find your bliss. 

Brian Matthews  2-1-26

Dedicated to my friend Jacy Arthur 
The ‘Glass Half Full’ trait personified 

The next was to mark the 40th birthday of my youngest son, Ben…

A Significant Birthday 

A significant birthday comes
The 40th of the youngest of my sons. 

I hope the day brings happiness, Ben
And brings to you all that you yen. 

But whatever it is that you do
I hope you can avoid feeling blue. 

Reflect on all that you are grateful for
As into life your energy you pour. 

And plan ahead for things you desire 
Avoiding wading through the mire. 

Take those paths likely to lead to joy
About your happiness don’t be coy. 

Embrace your life as though it has no end
To you and your family, my love I send. 

Brian Matthews 3-1-26
For Ben’s 40th on January 4th

The next poem was also prompted by a friend’s Facebook post …

My Brother 

A post from a friend
Missing his brother 
How often this happens 
The emotions of another 
Cascade through your mind
Until peace again you find. 

For my brother is not gone
While he lives in our memories 
His soul flitting around
On the breeze in the trees 
His smile and his chuckle 
Ensuring to struggles we don’t buckle. 

Brian Matthews 12-1-26

I usually avoid commenting on Australia Day, January 26th, due to the controversy about its origins and the lack of respect that choosing this as a date to celebrate being Australian demonstrates to our First Nation’s People. Better, in my opinion to move it to January 31st, a date we could all celebrate…

Some of Us

The stories are now told
Of the massacres of old. 

People who on this land had been
Long before by Europeans seen. 

And yet, as children we did not hear
Of the ravages that happened so near. 

And the battles now rage on
While our first Australians mourn their land gone. 

Celebrate our nation for sure
But do not the past obscure. 

A huge debt yet to be paid
Before lasting peace can finally be made. 

Some of us have been left far behind
And others say ‘pay it no mind’. 

Most, I think, would like to move ahead 
The past being something they dread. 

But until the truth is told and all revealed 
Will the wounds be treated and partially healed. 

Until that day is finally here
Let’s hope the nation’s tale is made clear. 

Brian Matthews 25-1-26

Reflecting on ‘Australia Day’ 26th January after reading an article ‘The horrific January 26th you never learnt about’ by John Paul Janke in SBS news

It is difficult to ignore the orange man who the US people have put into power for the second time and it is pleasing to see so many US citizens taking a stand against his bully-boy tactics. But, for some, this has lethal consequences…

Another Life Lost

As the demented President charges on
Enforcing his hate filled agenda
Another of his citizens is shot
Masked enforcers invading city streets. 

Illegal US immigrants the supposed targets
And yet legal citizens are slain
Armed Federal agents descending 
A person dies in the turmoil. 

The First Bully’s face appears 
Shouting his hate filled words
Casting slurs on other Nations 
Assuming legitimacy where there is none. 

Voices of reason can be heard
Another Nation’s leader does step up
Amongst the many dissenting voices
But most, on these issues are demure. 

For the Bully’s reach is far
And the rich and powerful in his corner 
Reminiscent of times past
Yet so many have forgotten. 

Brian Matthews 25-1-26

Prompted by the shooting and killing of another US citizen during ICE (US Customs & Immigration Enforcement) raids in Minnesota 

But, to end on a more positive note, a poem for our 26th Wedding Anniversary. Where have the last 30 years gone?…

Celebrating our 26th Wedding Anniversary 

Another important date arrives
Time to celebrate another year gone
As our marriage still thrives 
Welcoming yet another dawn. 

A year of little change
But I hope not too many regrets 
Though across the country we did range
With us, of course, came our pets. 

A Christmas spent far away
In a very pleasant place
A different holiday season I’ll say
Each day very easy to face. 

I look forward to many more years with you
Whether at home or far away
In good spirits or when you’re blue
By your side I plan to stay. 

So, have a happy anniversary my dear
Enjoy the day and what we do
Knowing that I love having you near
And to you I’ll stick like glue. 

Brian Matthews 28-1-26

Written for our 26th Wedding Anniversary on the 29th

No poems written in November but December provided a few prompts:

Firstly, a poem for one of my ten grandchildren –

A Birthday Poem

Another birthday comes around
A year coming for joy to be found 
More exciting things to discover 
Enjoyable times with your brother. 

And now entering into your teens
Bristling with energy, full of beans
We hope the coming year brings fun
Whether inside or in the sun. 

Weaving your way through this life
Avoiding all manner of strife
Taking it all in your way
Making sure you have your say. 

But knowing that in the end
All around you family send
Their love and support 
So any battles can be fought. 

Happy 13th birthday Ryder 
Love, Pop & Barbara 

Brian Matthews 11-12-25

And, while at first I refrained from contributing to the flood of words prompted by the appalling massacre at Bondi, I found that thoughts banged around in my head relentlessly, and I needed to express these –

Bondi Reshaped 

I’m lost for words!
Well, obviously not!

But how to talk of this?
Of course, comfort words flow.

So many badly wounded
An unbelievable death count. 

The politicians strut
More so those not in power. 

The tributes mount 
So many deeply affected. 

The funerals begin
The tears are shed. 

Remonstrations as always 
Begin and build wilder. 

Most are just appalled 
At the acts of hate. 

For the families we weep
With a sense of powerlessness. 

We are all changed by this.  
Nobody can benefit. 

But the wounds run deep 
Many, never to be healed. 

Brian Matthews 19-12-25

Soon after, a brief Christmas poem emerged –

Christmas Away

A quiet Christmas this year
Very few family near. 

Likewise far from most friends 
In the new year we’ll make amends. 

Christmas is often quiet, though, for us
While many others make a big fuss. 

A sumptuous meal on Christmas eve 
So missing out we do not grieve. 

A few games we’ll probably play
While with my wife’s uncle we stay. 

But to friends and family best wishes I declare 
Assuring them we really care. 

Brian  Matthews 25-12-25

Followed by reflections on a lazy time –

The Day Drifts On

The gentle sounds of the day
Whirring of a hedge trimmer
Lilting songs of different birds. 

A lazy time in holiday season
Plenty of jobs possible 
But no need to do any. 

Apart from routine work
Washing a few dishes
Cleaning some floors. 

The old dog snores
At peace on the couch
Not a worry in the world. 

Though struggling with limited food
An upset stomach the problem 
No idea of the cause. 

The day drifts on
A gentle breeze blows
And warmth envelops us. 

Brian Matthews 29-12-25

I was surprised at how long since my last post. Not much inspiration lately, I guess…

Here’s one I wrote for the beginning of Spring

Springtime 

Settling in again
After a very long trip
Almost three months away. 

Another birthday gone
Celebrated with loved ones
And the first of a new month. 

Spring has now come
Though the cold still lingers
Taking its time to move on. 

It feels like a rebirth
New things soon to be revealed 
And that is the beauty in life. 

We never really know
What is yet to come
To overturn the negatives of the day. 

There is so much misery 
But joy still creeps through 
Shining light in the dark places. 

The habitual frowns of so many
Cast aside by childish glee
Of those discovering things anew. 

Reminding us of our own past
The new things that tickled
The emotions that made us tremble. 

No matter how despondent we may feel
Hope always emerges and trickles through 
Creating new and emerging waterfalls. 

Brian Matthews 1-9-25

And, one I wrote for my darling wife Barbara’s birthday

Barbara’s Birthday 

Another birthday comes around
More joy to be found
A meal and a present or two
To show we’re thinking of you. 

Another year has now passed 
The passing of time has us aghast
What is it that’s changed for you?
What projects are on the brew?

Whatever it is that you do
Each day you’ll get through 
Dealing with challenges as they arise 
To no one else’s surprise. 

Making your lists each day
Ticking off tasks on the way
Planning an important part of your life
Avoiding all manner of strife. 

I hope this birthday treats you well
But, of course, only time will tell 
So here we go hoping for the best
No matter what life presents as a test. 

And move forward you will
Knowing that time you’ll kill
Embracing that which comes your way
Loving each and every day. 

Brian Matthews 27-10-25

Humpback Whales 

A pleasant boat trip
Out on the bay
The odd humpback whale
Here and there. 

So hard to get a photo 
Better just to relax
Soak up the sun
Enjoy the experience. 

They do what they will
Idling around in the water 
The occasional breach
My camera too slow to catch. 

And then across a pod we come
Curious young ones
Watching us for a while
A few photos and videos taken. 

Such gracious creatures 
At home in their world
Seemingly not worried 
By the presence of the aliens. 

Brian Matthews 18-8-25

I don’t usually post so regularly but this deserved its own space, I thought…

An Earthquake 

The house shook
Only a brief disruption 
Is the washing machine off balance?
No, the cycle is finished!

A quick search showed the cause
A 5.2 magnitude quake
162 kilometres north of Brisbane 
A few minutes to affect Hervey Bay. 

The balance of the Earth can shift
So rapidly when nature determines 
Solidity is never certain 
Life and all in it is ephemeral. 

The human condition seeks certitude
But all around us things change 
Evolving, devolving, moving and shifting 
The only certainty in life is change. 

Brian Matthews 16-8-25

Our holiday to warmer climes is near the end, though we have some whale watching booked before we head back from our third visit to Hervey Bay Queensland. So, here are a few poems I have written since my last post:

Another Anniversary 

Some anniversaries are for celebrating 
Others mainly for commiserating 
The loss of one we loved and mourn
Though knowing death is for all who are born. 

My Mum lived a long, long life
Full of joy and plenty of strife
She faced each challenge as it came
But by the end knew dying had no shame. 

A heart of gold she surely had
Helping others who had it bad
A streak of independence a strong feature 
Never allowing struggles to beat her. 

Until her final days did eventuate
When way too much was heaped on her plate
And then by frailty she was beset
The time to finish without regret. 

I’m glad for you that all pain is gone
And that you had your time this Earth upon
Shared your labours and your spirit 
Enjoyed your life and all who were in it. 

Brian Matthews 12-7-25
On the 4th anniversary of my Mum’s death…

And then some doggy poems…

The old dog snoozes
His fifteenth birthday today -
Ah, what a good life. 

Brian Matthews 20-7-25
On Riley’s birthday

And a longer poem for the ‘old fella’

Riley’s Fifteen 

On his fifteenth birthday 
The little dog sleeps 
I wonder of what he dreams?

His early life rough
Probably abused
Abandoned in a shelter. 

Rescued by a loving one
But circumstances changed
And he came to us. 

For ten years one of our family 
Looking at his Mum with love
Knowing he is wanted and safe. 

Doggy Heaven I call it
Where dogs needs are supreme
Humans just fitting in. 

Brian Matthews 20-7-25

And one for our 12 year old, Cavalier Boston Bulldog cross, Basil…

The old dog sleeps on the couch
Tongue hangs out as so few teeth
resting, waiting for his meal -
Then devoured at once. 

Brian Matthews 29-7-25

My first attempt at Dodoitsu
Japanese style of poetry 7-7-7-5 syllables, no heading, no rhyming

And another dog-themed Dodoitsu

The two old dogs look at me 
Clear questions shown in their eyes
Where is the dinner for us?
Provide it right now!

Brian Matthews 29-7-25

And my son-in-law, Leigh, gave us a lovely surprise by organising a flying weekend visit of our daughter, Ashlea, from South Australia to Queensland…

A Big Surprise 

The look on her face 
Such a surprise 
Bafflement grows into a broad smile. 

Crossing half our country 
Flying then driving
To spend time with her Mum. 

I’m sure this will live
Long in the memories 
Of her Mum and her great uncle. 

Such a kind gesture 
By our son-in-law
Organising the whole thing. 

A generous and graceful deed
One that is so appreciated 
Allowing time spent together. 

Brian Matthews 28-7-25

And my final poem for this post was prompted when I was reading a novel set in the aftermath of a Californian bush fire (Smoke by Michael Brissenden)

Schadenfreude

I read the term ‘disaster porn’
The excitement people feel
Over the catastrophes of others. 

Similar to ‘suffering porn’
A commodity that exists
On the TVs of the non suffering. 

The fascination in others’ misfortune 
Some showing accidents 
Others stupidity in driving. 

The German language captures this well 
With the word ‘schadenfreude’
Pleasure at the misery of another. 

I wonder where this fits with empathy 
Another common human feature 
Not mutually exclusive so it seems. 

Showing the complexity of the human condition 
That people can feel so deeply their neighbours’ pain
And yet, at times, revel in this. 

The critical issue I suggest 
Is how close one feels to those affected
The pain of a sister cutting so deep. 

The agony of someone from another culture 
The misfortune of a careless driver 
Allows the distress to be distanced. 

‘This could never happen to me’ we think
‘I would never live in that place or do that thing’
Allowing complacency that is not deserved. 

For, as with joy, suffering lingers for everyone
Behind a thinly veiled drape
Awaiting an inevitable curtain call. 

Brian Matthews 15-8-25

It’s funny what can spark a poem..

I’ll finish with an early morning photo of a Brahmany Kite taken by my wife, Barbara, near the foreshore of Hervey Bay, Queensland…

Such a beautiful bird with its distinctive laughing call. Plenty of them in the caravan park here at Airlie Beach