Potting Shed Redux
The Taj Mahal will one day fall,
They’ll build and tear down three more malls,
But one thing here when Jesus calls:
My wife’s new potting shed.
The concrete footers all are poured.
There’s even concrete for the floor.
The anchor bolts required more
For her new potting shed.
The surface bond cement’s applied;
I’ve got red patches on my hide.
It’s looking good, I must confide
(My wife’s new potting shed).
The roof will be brown standing seam
To match with our green acre theme.
Duality: nightmare and dream
Our little potting shed.
And if, by chance, tornadoes come,
We’ll head there quickly, in a run
And wait it out until they’re done
In our new potting shed.
And when I’m done from all my toil,
She’ll have a place to mix her soil.
If we kept records, we’d recoil
At her new potting shed.
Copyright © Jeff Kyser | Year Posted 2022
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment