So many warm afternoons
spent in my Grandad’s endless garden
Home to my first and only treehouse
when air-raid siren tests
still filled those Northern streets
And most magical of all
the rough lumber shed he’d built
A place of wooden-handed tools
you had to carefully maintain with oil
tools that would have been his grandad’s
A place where big furry bees
chose to die with dignity
behind his motorcycle helmet
or a row of ancient cricket balls
by jam jars full of sorted screws
Eighty eight lead weights
from the keys of some deceased piano
kept for… I’ve no idea
Drawers of bakelite switches and fuses
A big old crate of things for me to play with
Such fascinating bits
of dismantled gadgets
all teaching me to wonder
to pay attention, and to imagine
how everything might work
I’m still fascinated now, still want to know
how all of this might work
So, I show my working out
right here on the paper
writing with his old fountain pen…
[2022]
Thanks for reading.
The Lighthouse 
Marvellous Tom
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Thank you Bree. Magical times learning how to imagine and take notice.
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I wrote a poem called Sowing Kit back in 2020 which has a similar feel. I never posted it because I wasn’t sure. Maybe I’ll dust it off and take another look!
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You absolutely must!
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I have! But you know me… You probably won’t see it published for a month or more (so organised).
Also… It’s called Sewing Kit, not sowing kit 😂
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I love this Tom. It stirred fond memories of my Dad’s many sheds and a box room full of various bits and pieces including watch and clock parts, a derringer pistol, two swords, and a mouse skeleton!
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Thanks Peter 🙂 Between your comment and ThoughtsBecomeWords’s comment you’ve made me want to go back and fill this poem with even more fascinating details… There could be hundreds of verses celebrating all those precious little memories. Thanks for the shed inspiration too.
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I’m now filled with warm and cosy memories. They will help me get to sleep on frosty nights!
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Love this story you crafted which filled with childhood wonders.
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Thanks for reading Cassa. It truly was a place where many wonders happened and I learned so much.
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Favourite lines: “A place where big furry bees/chose to die with dignity”
Such gentle love displayed for your grandad… a rich telling of time spent together. Thank you.
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Thanks Frances/Sue! I’m so pleased that’s the theme you picked out here – I had planned to rewrite this to put my grandad front and centre in the story as it was from him I learned so much – but I think he deserves many more poems so this is just one small part of the story. Cairo On The Radio (also on my blog) is part 1. Thanks for reading.
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Beautiful words bringing back beautiful memories – my grandfather’s carpentry shed and layers of curly wood shavings underfoot.
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Thanks Gretchen, I want to include those images into the poem now! Those wondrous places we spent so much time as children never realising how magical those times were.
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So true, Tom, so true.
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