The Man In the Shed

The Man In The Shed

The man sits in his shed with its orderly tools
He's following his own best gardening rules
Developed over decades in his personal lair
Tending flowers and veggies with such loving care 

His allotment is rented, his terraced house too
He doesn't own much, not been able to
A labourer for all of his long working life
Supporting his family, two kids and a wife

The kids have long flown and his wife died last year
He treats himself to an occasional beer
His shed is his comfort now, all he has left
His planting and cutting surprisingly deft

For a man whose hands were calloused and rough
From a job whose hours were long and so tough
His dog at his feet as he sorts through his seeds
He drinks tea from a flask before clearing the weeds

In the beautiful Cotswolds a different man stands
Admiring his shed that cost twenty-five grand
He's not employed any more, that is true
I wonder what he might be planning to do?

This man with his education so fine
The finest of clothes, the finest of wine
He worked his way up to the absolute top
Without ever suffering a lowly paid job

He gets a fat deal for writing a book
I wonder how he'll make himself look?
Stabbed in the back by his so-called mates?
Failing to win the important debates?

He sits in his shed and ponders his life
With his beautiful home and his very rich wife
Thinking about how he'll justify
His terrible record and all of his lies

In their private dens the men are found
With very little common ground
Both men in sheds but worlds apart
Different brains and different hearts

(c) Tim Fellows 2017