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  • Shed ambition

    I showed the below to a friend who was most
    Amused, and suggested to me that I post
    It somewhere where others might find it quite fun,
    So I registered here - here's my post number one.
    It's not a great work of poetic expression,
    It's just about sheds, a Great British obsession . . .



    SHED AMBITION

    "When I grow up," the sapling said,
    "I want to be a garden shed",
    "A garden shed?", replied a bird,
    Who flying by, had overheard,
    "To want to be a shed is fine,
    If you are a spruce or pine,
    But you'll become a mighty oak,
    That's not a tree that any bloke
    Will waste upon a garden shed.
    To be a dining suite instead
    Should be your quest and wish and dream,
    For of the woods, you are the cream."

    "A dining suite? Is that my fate?
    A table, six chairs, maybe eight?
    I get that humans have to eat,
    And, when they do, upon a seat,
    And need somewhere to place their food,
    (For sure, the floor is rather crude),
    But honestly, I really feel
    That this job could be done by deal,
    Or any other type of wood.
    As tables they'd be just as good,
    A dining suite is what I dread,
    I want to be a garden shed."

    "A shed's a noble thing to be,
    A noble goal for any tree,
    To be cut down and then removed
    And planked and planed and tongue-and-grooved,
    Then reassembled piece by piece
    Into a stately edifice,
    More majestic than the Shard,
    And proud to grace a man's back yard."

    The sapling then, (let's call him Peter),
    Chose to change the poem's metre.
    Now the lines get somewhat longer,
    And the rhythm somewhat stronger . . .

    "And once installed, oh the things I could house,
    I could house those important things real men espouse,
    Like mowers and rakes and reels of hose,
    And shovels and spades and forks and hoes,"
    (That was a pretty bad rhyme, I agree,
    But I'm doing my best, as I hope you can see)
    "Bicycles, barrows, and riddles and pots,
    And compost in bags, and string tied in knots,
    And saws and chisels and hammers and nails,
    And brushes and paints and buckets and pails,
    Wrenches and spanners and nuts and bolts,
    And gadgets to measure amps, watts and volts,
    Several screwdrivers and all sorts of screws,
    Chemicals, solvents, and specialist glues,
    A strimmer, a trimmer for trimming the hedge,
    And ready for winter, an old wooden sledge,
    And drills and bits and bits and bobs,
    And odds and sods and old brass knobs,
    Swingballs and barbies and charcoal in lumps,
    And racquets and bats and balls and stumps,
    And piles of junk that you can't throw away
    Because it might well come in handy one day,
    And all of those things that men can't live without,
    My worth to all men will be never in doubt."

    "And anglers will sit in me tying their flies,
    Wool dyers will use me for brewing their dyes,
    And artists will stand in me painting their pics,
    Magicians will stand in me practising tricks,
    Guitarists will sit in me playing guitar,
    And boozers will build in me a mini bar,
    Steam buffs will use me for their model trains,
    Aeromodellers will use me when modelling planes,
    Writers will write in me, poets will rhyme,
    Woodworkers would work wood much of the time,
    A refuge I'll be, and a place to escape
    For a quick can of lager, a fag or a vape,
    These noble pursuits all require a fine shed,
    Of dining suites sheds are no doubt streets ahead."

    The little bird smiled but sighed inside,
    She'd heard this before from other bright eyed
    Little saplings whose dreams were destined to fail
    Like every attempt to find the Grail,
    She smiled, but her smile was tinged with tears,
    The tree would dream gaily for hundreds of years,
    But she knew all too well what the outcome will be,
    (As did a bright eavesdropping bumblebee),
    She knew that the oakling would go to create
    A dining suite: table, six chairs, maybe eight.

  • #2
    Such a lovely inaugural offering to introduce yourself to the zone Mister Trick . As an inveterate rhymer myself, I appreciated your meter (great to include that transition stanza), and the wonderful story it told. I did have to wonder if one little sapling could grow big enough to create a shed as big as would be needed to hold the vast gardening accouterment detailed - not to mention place for boozers, steam buffs, etc.

    So glad you took your friend's advice and found the zone. Welcome, welcome, and please, bring us more!

    Comment


    • #3
      Originally posted by RhymeLovingWriter View Post
      Such a lovely inaugural offering to introduce yourself to the zone Mister Trick . As an inveterate rhymer myself, I appreciated your meter (great to include that transition stanza), and the wonderful story it told. I did have to wonder if one little sapling could grow big enough to create a shed as big as would be needed to hold the vast gardening accouterment detailed - not to mention place for boozers, steam buffs, etc.

      So glad you took your friend's advice and found the zone. Welcome, welcome, and please, bring us more!
      Thanks for your welcome, I'm quite tickled pink
      That a fellow inveterate rhymer may think,
      That my ditty's not bad, and my metre's okay,
      There certainly will be some more on its way.

      Comment


      • #4
        You've come to a spot
        where rhyming runs thick
        so bring what you've got
        to add to our shtick.
        We celebrate words
        with rhyming (or not).
        Though some think us nerds
        we're really quite hot
        on trails of the write,
        to pen what we've heard
        (or enters our sight)
        like bullies or birds.
        Yes, keep it coming!
        The future is bright
        with syllables strumming
        a rhyme-sody* lite.

        Comment


        • #5
          A welcome smile
          for oak preserved
          400 years to serve
          "Mine Host" in style
          though, by then,
          that may not be
          man's domain
          if even then be
          trousers worn.

          Comment


          • #6
            The greatest of all dreamers should never have to shed
            their loftiest ambitions. Keep dreaming and keep writing Mistet Trick.

            Comment


            • #7
              Loved this don't think you missed a trick here

              Comment


              • #8
                This was quite fun. Welcome to the zone.

                Comment


                • #9
                  Thanks, everybody, for your welcomes and encouragement. I'm digging out, brushing off, and tidying up some more bits and pieces as we speak . . .

                  Comment


                  • Parkinsonspoet
                    Parkinsonspoet commented
                    Editing a comment
                    So far Trick and treat
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