This is the saga of the shed,
I got it wrong when I spoke to Fred,
He asked me where I wanted the door,
And did I want a window or four.
I don’t know I cried in rage,
My husband’s not here it’s hard to gage,
And do you want the roof on a slope,
It will give you space, a bit of scope.
I think he said it must have a point,
It doesn’t leak with that type of joint,
Then he can put stuff in the space,
For a rainy day just in case.
And has he made the ground all level,
Cos if he hasn’t it’s a bit of a devil,
I think he made it eight by four,
I’m sure I heard him when he swore.
The day soon came for the shed to arrive,
He moved the car from the drive,
Out to the garden he rushed in joy,
Full of excitement like a boy,
But then oh no disaster struck,
The shed’s not right what bad luck,
The wife it seems got it wrong,
The shed is wide where it should be long.
My husband’s bubble was deflated,
From the dream that he created,
He had to lay a bit of decking,
I heard him mutter something about checking.
And now it sits in pride and glory,
Looking good hunky dory,
I’m sorry that I got it wrong,
You should have known all along!