The Sheds – 7th June 2025

~ shaun tenzenmen

Those old wooden planks forming structures
stood behind my 400-year-old home;
still, they stood through each test of time
long after I had left this place to roam;

From the house and its slippery paths,
mossed and icy obstacles in winter;
stood those dilapidated monuments,
though each season would split and splinter;

To the left, “the office”, where Grandad
collected his postcards of the wild Yukon;
locked up tight his precious memories
that I would sometimes curiously snoop on;

Around the back, the gardening shed,
musty and full of rusting tools;
next to that, the beer shed
where empty crates were used as stools;

I still recall the stray cat delivering
us a parade of kitten after kitten,
so we kept and named her ‘Mother’
as we all became tragically smitten;

Sadly, she didn’t stand the test of time
and with her next litter, cruelly, died;
nothing left except a couple of photos
tucked into an album and simply kept aside;

Still more sheds stood next to the fence,
one full of coal, another with wood;
once a week, I collected both
for the fire; a role I understood;

But there were two more I don’t recall,
their purpose a mystery to my childish eyes;
perhaps full of junk or even empty;
so much for the test of time and how it flies.

All this is true.

Shared with the W3 prompt #162:
a. Your poem must include deliberate repetition of a word, phrase, or sentence structure at least three times throughout the piece.
b. Your poem must incorporate the word “still” at least twice.

This poem is way longer than I would like and became more of a rhyming reminisce for myself rather than an ideal piece of artistic poetry.

16 thoughts on “The Sheds – 7th June 2025”

  1. Hi Shaun – your poem captures something deeply universal about childhood’s secret spaces and how they shape us. The way you’ve transformed these simple sheds into “dilapidated monuments” is brilliant – it honours how profoundly meaningful ordinary places become in memory. Your specific details (Grandad’s Yukon postcards, using crates as stools) create such authentic intimacy. The bittersweet reflection on time’s passage feels both personal and eternal. Really moving work.

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply

    1. Thanks so much, Bob. My pre-teen peers and I would utilise the area for hide and seek, so these sheds became something else then. And within a few more years I would steal a bottle of Grandad’s beer stash every now and then. It was a developing wonderland that changed over time, yet always remained the same.

      Liked by 1 person

      Reply

    1. It was indeed tragic David.

      It took us three months to find homes for the six kittens she came with and during that time she became pregnant with six more. My Grandad ‘disposed’ of three of them, I was told in a bucket full of water, that I thankfully didn’t get to see.

      It took us three more months to move on the three newborns left and after having kept her indoors through that time, we took her to the vet to get neutered where she died during the operation and so we were left with nothing except a few photos (pre-digital era).

      Liked by 1 person

      Reply

    1. Most of the time these sheds were just objects to play tag or hide and seek around! I grew up in this old cottage from ages 9 to around 19 I think and the environment certainly played a role in my growth.

      Liked by 1 person

      Reply

    1. Thank you. 🙏

      I remember seeing the sheds still there a year or so after we had to move out from this house once my grandparents passed away. But I think they were eventually renovated into something more modern.

      Liked by 1 person

      Reply

Let me know your thoughts