Don Stratford


The Shed - Poem by Don Stratford

A mans’ gotta have a shed y’know
A place he calls his own
Where he can go and loose himself
Like a king upon his throne

It can be neat and tidy
With everything in place
Or one un –wholly bloody mess
Where there isn’t any space

But you can rest assured old friend
No matter how it fares
It’s his domain and castle
Down to the worn out chairs

He proudly shows it to his mates
Who goo and gar and ask
What’s this and that you got in here
Including in the flask

There’s pictures stuck up on the wall
The likes that women scorn
But it wouldn’t be the same you see
Without his female porn

And if someone dare to take control
Woe betide the feathers fly
Until he once again can say
Don’t come in here and pry

When it’s why on this one fateful day
A hapless brown came in
And all that happened after that
Boy, you should have heard the din

Jo blake slipped here and he slipped there
To keep out of old mates way
But old mate was having none of that
As he entered in the fray

Things they went here and they went there
As the chase in-ten-si-fied
With old mate going hell for leather
To get that snake outside

Almost a full one hour had gone
And neither would give in
The snake kept just enough in front
To save it’s slippery skin

Until it spied a big wide space
That was in fact the door
And slipped out quick as anything
Away from that bloody floor

When old mate stopped and looked around
When the battle was complete
He couldn’t believe the mess there was
He was out to it on his feet

But satisfaction slowly grew
Sweat began to dis-si-pate
As he softly whispered to himself
I’ll not share with any snake

So, take heed all those who enter there
And know it’s in his head
He’ll do whatever it does take
To defend his bloody shed




Don Stratford © 18 / 2 / 2005


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Poem Submitted: Friday, March 6, 2009



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