Grandpa's Shed

There's an old shed
In Grandpa's garden
I hear it grumble
Groaning on tired joints
At home among dandelions
The wood sags with soft creases.

There's an old shed
In Grandpa's garden
In Summer, I lie in warm grass
Wondering what's in there…
Maybe spiders big as footballs
Magic lamps or monsters.

There's an old shed
In Grandpa's garden.
Grandpa listens, smiling
Hand on my shoulder
As I guess what's inside.
'Ah,' he says. 'This is a time-machine.'

A time-machine? A TIME MACHINE?
I wonder if he's teasing.
Can we visit the dinosaurs?
He chuckles. 'Not quite!
But when I look at this shed
I see the garden long ago
Full of footballs and fishing rods
From when your dad was young.
I remember the tools inside
I used to mend the crib
You slept in as a baby.
And I remember grandma
Smiling as she planted those flowers
Which still bloom here, like memories
Even though she is gone.

There's an old shed
In Grandpa's garden
It is leaky and creaky.
It slumps peacefully
Dozing in clouds of bugs,
Shelves heavy with junk
And the weight of years.
But it is a castle of imagination
A secret box of remembering
And a stash of smiles
For stormy days.

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