His shed was a workshop first of all

with sturdy bench along one wall,

now bench and floor are full to the brim

so much so that you can’t get in.

Stuffed with tools and useless tat

that may come in handy – fancy that!

He thinks there’ll be a rainy day,

we’d not need that lot, come what may.

 

There never could be such a crisis

we’d need wood all shapes and sizes,

electric trunking, random gas hose,

lengths of pipe, what use of those?

Numerous boxes of different size nails,

empty shells of long-dead snails,

old paint cans each with rusted lid,

all of this stuff I just want rid!

 

Once a year he takes everything out,

stands and scratches his head in doubt.

I think maybe it’s my lucky day,

surely, he must throw some away,

but no, not my idiotic hoarder,

he puts it back in a different order!       

 

Unfit for humans, no space for insiders

apart from those creepy, hairy spiders!

 No room for lawnmower, rake or hoe,

it got so full that, don’t you know,

we had to go buy ANOTHER shed

to put my gardening tools to bed!

His monstrosity I hide from view

with honeysuckle - well, wouldn't you?