It was just an old weathered garden shed,
In the shadow of gness's tree,
With faded boards and sagging door,
But it was a wonderment, she said, "to me".
Inside upon the wooden floor,
Were garden tools, goat cleaners and things,
The smell of autumn leaves when they are dry,
Such memories they should bring.
In days when Gness was but a child,
She'd visit Uncle George,
And he would give me Deep Fried Mars Bars,
A friendship they would forge.
And just outside his garden shed,
Was a birthing pond with a bridge,
Gness would love to relive all those days,
Oh, the things she wouldn't give!
That time has passed, she's older now,
But this one thing she knows,
She'll cherish all those childhood days,
As her red hair turns to snow.
Today, the shed is standing, not sloping now
beneath the Tree where tethered tony awaits his castration.
The birthing ponds watered too, lilies floating under the bough
Gness is happy - may be not castration this pm, rather an assination