Sheddie Rogan Whitenails emailed me this wonderful poem about his shed.
The Rhyme-Bothererâ€™s Garden Shed
Shedspla! my shed:
Just once, let me find shortbread
In the shortbread tin, not screws;
Let the bolts in the jam jars bruise
Is white spirit as mild as the moisty
Mizzle of morn, when supped
From the gowpen of two hands cupped;
As scant in the mouth, as faint,
Ill-equipped to thin paint,
Though it thins the thirst well enough?
You can read more of his stuff on his blog or buy his books over on amazon.