Political Pondering on Privilege | Peter Matthews

Is he cute, is he clever, is he good or is he bad

Is he fortunate in having all the health and wealth he had

Is he ever really thankful is he ever really glad

Or does he just accept it as his right

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Does he not appreciate good fortune all the while

Does he think he should receive a constant fawning smile

Does he take advantage with a thoughtless scheming guile

Or does he just accept it as his right

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I think it best that others should….decide if he is bad or good!

He doesn’t care for others so….I think he really has to go!


Peter Matthews, a country boy at heart, lives with his wife in the suburbs of Nottingham, England.  His greatest achievement is that he has aged fairly gracefully but has avoided growing up.  Peter has written poetry from the age of sixteen and blogs regularly at www.pollymermaid.wordpress.com

Missing! | Peter Matthews

I woke up this morning, was missing a toe

Limped all round the house, oh where did it go?

When going to bed I know I had ten

I got up, looked down, I counted, and then

I enlisted the help of my wife and my lad

To find the lost item I know I once had

We looked in the bathroom and under the bed

We looked everywhere and I finally said

“A nice cup of coffee with double whipped cream

Perhaps what I feared was only a dream!” 


Peter Matthews, a country boy at heart, lives with his wife in the suburbs of Nottingham, England.  His greatest achievement is that he has aged fairly gracefully but has avoided growing up.  Peter has written poetry from the age of sixteen and blogs regularly at www.pollymermaid.wordpress.com

Poetry Rules OK! | Peter Matthews

This poem will not be offensive

The rules state it mustn’t be so

I’ve written before on this forum

So you’d think that by now I would know

I like to submit on this website

It’s a friendly and safe place to be

I hope that you read all the entries

And that one of those entries is me.


Peter Matthews, a country boy at heart, lives with his wife in the suburbs of Nottingham, England.  His greatest achievement is that he has aged fairly gracefully but has avoided growing up.  Peter has written poetry from the age of sixteen and blogs regularly at www.pollymermaid.wordpress.com

City Life | Peter Matthews

Riverside cities of wood, glass, and stone

Crowds densely packed yet often alone

Everyday scurries to work and back home

Life is a barrel of fun

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Glass fronted buildings stretch up to the sky

How is it possible man reached so high

Years flew so quickly and some passed me by

Life was a barrel of fun!


Peter Matthews, a country boy at heart, lives with his wife in the suburbs of Nottingham, England.  His greatest achievement is that he has aged fairly gracefully but has avoided growing up.  Peter has written poetry from the age of sixteen and blogs regularly at www.pollymermaid.wordpress.com.

Reality | Peter Matthews

In some other time

We could have

In some other life

We would have

In a different age

We may never have met

On another page

We were one, and yet

Was it real?


Peter Matthews, a country boy at heart, lives with his wife in the suburbs of Nottingham, England.  His greatest achievement is that he has aged fairly gracefully but has avoided growing up.  Peter has written poetry from the age of sixteen and blogs regularly at www.pollymermaid.wordpress.com.

Mud | Peter Matthews

There’s good mud and bad mud and mud in between

The thing is with mud you don’t know where it’s been

It’s come from the hills or has stayed on the plain

It sometimes just washes on past with the rain

Whatever the type you encounter today

Don’t worry when covered, it will wash away!

If mud is a thing that you really don’t like

I wouldn’t suggest that you go for a hike

For surely when ambling as every man should

You’re sure to encounter a great deal of mud


Peter Matthews, a country boy at heart, lives with his wife in the suburbs of Nottingham, England.  His greatest achievement is that he has aged fairly gracefully but has avoided growing up.  Peter has written poetry from the age of sixteen and blogs regularly at www.pollymermaid.wordpress.com.

Merry Christmas | Peter Matthews

Misty morning clothed in snow

Huddled up with miles to go

Checking sheep out on the moors

Leaving family safe indoors

Man and dog go striding forth

West, then South, then East, then North

Every compass point between

Making sure all sheep are seen

A shepherd’s work is never done

Merry Christmas everyone!


Peter Matthews, a country boy at heart, lives with his wife in the suburbs of Nottingham, England.  His greatest achievement is that he has aged fairly gracefully but has avoided growing up.  Peter has written poetry from the age of sixteen and blogs regularly at www.pollymermaid.wordpress.com.

Mistaken identity | Peter Matthews

Fast asleep then wide awake

Dare I peep or should I fake

Is that Santa I can hear

Breathing softly, very near

Someone’s whispering I am sure

Over there just by my door

Gently ease the duvet back

Open eyelids just a crack

If it was Santa I’d be glad

but no it’s just my Mum and Dad!


Peter Matthews, a country boy at heart, lives with his wife in the suburbs of Nottingham, England.  His greatest achievement is that he has aged fairly gracefully but has avoided growing up.  Peter has written poetry from the age of sixteen and blogs regularly at www.pollymermaid.wordpress.com.

Christmas stocking | Peter Matthews

Susie squirrel’s stocked her larder

Finding food is getting harder

Little ones and Dad to cater

Hoping stocks don’t dwindle later

Every year it’s left to her

When it’s cold Dad’s loathe to stir

But in their drey they’re warm and cosy

Little kits think life is rosey

Actually, this isn’t true

‘cause this ain’t what the squirrels do!

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(Squirrels have a litter of 2-4 babies, called kits or kittens, normally in February or March.  Older female squirrels may produce a second litter in August. The babies will leave the nest at three months of age.)


Peter Matthews, a country boy at heart, lives with his wife in the suburbs of Nottingham, England.  His greatest achievement is that he has aged fairly gracefully but has avoided growing up.  Peter has written poetry from the age of sixteen and blogs regularly at www.pollymermaid.wordpress.com.

The Simple Things | Peter Matthews

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The simple things of life delight

Children’s laughter, birds in flight

Grasses swaying in the breeze

Help to make my life of ease

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The smell of new mown fields of hay

The rising sun at break of day

Autumn mists and wintry showers

Buzzing bees amongst the flowers

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New made beds with smooth clean sheets

The smell of smoke from burning peats

Springtime bulbs just poking through

Summer evening’s barbeque

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Horses, sheep, and cows a’mooing

Blushing youngsters all a’wooing

Older couples, hand in hand

Harvests from our fertile land

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Wispy clouds just scudding by

Painting pictures in the sky

All these things and so much more

Help make the life that I adore

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I count my blessings every day

And thank the Lord in every way

And when I go to bed at night

Considering all that is so right

The simple things of life delight.


Peter Matthews, a country boy at heart, lives with his wife in the suburbs of Nottingham, England.  His greatest achievement is that he has aged fairly gracefully but has avoided growing up.  Peter has written poetry from the age of sixteen and blogs regularly at www.pollymermaid.wordpress.com.