The Garden Shed

He used to go down to the garden shed

To get away from her talking and his compromising , he said

The shed was so tidy

All the tools in their place

Cleaner and more ordered than many people's homes.

He used to gaze from the small window in the garden shed,

Listen to the trains roaring by over the nearby railway bridge

I'll be on one of those trains one day, he said,

Get away from here forever, he vowed.

Outside were all the tulips in an orderly row

Neatly trimmed rose bushes, pearly white and red,

Tomatoes and strawberries in pots

Consumed at Sunday lunch

And he sat in that rickerty chair, not wanting any company.

 

He used to go down to the garden shed,

He's passed away now so I go there instead.

There's a padlock on the door but it doesn't work,

It can't keep me out, can't bar the nostalgia I feel.

I want to taste his loneliness,

His contentment at being alone

Escaping from the family every now and then,

From being that man they didn't really understand

But the one who brought the money in.

I listen to the high speed train dashing over the ancient bridge,

Gaze out of the narrow window,

Just the way he did,

Looking across at the back doors that enclose the family,

Safely locked away from this view,

This reality.

 

For My Grandfather.

🌷🌷 (11)

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Comments

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Jon

Sun 29th Oct 2017 09:27

Beautiful tribute

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Hannah Collins

Sun 22nd Oct 2017 18:56

Thank you so much Rich.

Hannah

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Hannah Collins

Sun 22nd Oct 2017 18:55

Thank you Philip for your comment. I really appreciate that.

Hannah

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Philip Stevens

Tue 17th Oct 2017 20:55

I to have a shed... i to can hear trains near by .. i to have million thoughts of escaping ... escaping those thoughts in my head... but keeping the shed tidy seems to put those thoughts at bay and keep my mind in order; a good place to reflect as i gaze out the narrow window thinking how wonderfully you've captured those moment's with your words today... thank you for sharing

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Rich

Tue 17th Oct 2017 20:49

Wonderful.

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Hannah Collins

Tue 17th Oct 2017 20:36

Thank you Ryn for your comment. Always appreciated.

Hannah

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Hannah Collins

Tue 17th Oct 2017 20:34

Thank you suki for your comment which I really enjoyed reading.
Hannah

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Ryn

Tue 17th Oct 2017 11:31

You’re imagery is always really good and it makes it feel like I am there every time. I love it.
Ryn

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suki spangles

Tue 17th Oct 2017 04:22

Hi Hannah,

Really nice write. I find this lines especially affecting:

I listen to the high speed train dashing over the ancient bridge,

Gaze out of the narrow window,
Just the way he did,
Looking across at the back doors that enclose the family,
Safely locked away from this view,
This reality

Thanks for sharing.

Suki

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Hannah Collins

Mon 16th Oct 2017 22:28

Thank you Frances for that lovely comment.

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Frances Macaulay Forde

Mon 16th Oct 2017 04:43

What a beautiful expression of love. You have a wonderfully light touch which reaches out and embraces the reader. Well done. 😊

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Wolfgar Miere

Sun 15th Oct 2017 21:55

A thoughtful and loving lament.

Obviously I never knew your Grandfather but I like him, even if there is a tainted sadness here. I'm sure you miss him very much, this is a touching remembrance of him.

David.

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Hannah Collins

Sun 15th Oct 2017 20:33

Thank you Ray for that lovely comment.
My grandfather was very much a family man but he had to have his own space.
Work took up almost all his life, though he was very interested in the arts and reading. He couldn't really share that with my grandmother.
I really miss him.

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raypool

Sun 15th Oct 2017 19:37

This lovely poem expresses how we value our own spaces and the feeling can be addictive, as we sometimes retreat into a sort of womb of daydreaming . What amazes me is how us of the married fraternity can take so many blows without cracking up and even regard it as inevitable. The reason - to avoid the horror of loneliness You paint a compelling picture.

Ray

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