My garage houses sixteen hundred paintings you see.
Large cartoons on canvases, painted by me.
There are floor to wall shelves, crammed full.
My garage is alive, a living, breathing happy soul.
There are garden tools –spades, trowels, a yellow rake.
Two axes to chop trees, for nature’s overgrown sake.
In the corner is a pink frig full of crème soda...
Continue reading...