Locked down in the Manshed 6. A poem by Eamonn Fitzgerald

Finally work week over,
I returned to my shed,
An oasis in the turmoil.
I missed the big spiders,
The whirr of the lathe,
The silence, the dust,
And my big pile of books.
It’s time for a soiree,
I’ve invited myself where
I’ll toast the siege of Gibraltar
With a shedebration of sorts.
(Far from the covid crowd)


I own a Manshed where I make stuff and think about stuff.

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