Where Dad Eats Chocolate
It looks like any other shed
When viewed from the outside
To the innocent observer
It has nothing much to hide.
But when you get behind the door
To plant, prick out or sow,
A cosy warm interior
Is all you’ll find on show.
A battered wooden armchair,
seed box to rest his feet;
but underneath the potting bench
Is hidden something sweet.
It was only six short months ago
he could eat just what he liked
but now his sweet ring doughnuts
were concealed behind his bike.
Getting wed to number two
Seemed like such a good idea,
But with his decreasing waistline
His sweet tooth had much to fear.
His elasticated trousers
She’ll not have them in the house
So much for comfort in old age
He nodded to his spouse.
Another meal of rabbit food
instead of fish and chips
no sugar, fat or stodgy snack
will make it passed his lips.
So when the dragon’s back is turned
down garden path he’ll dash
with a king-sized bar of Dairy Milk,
he’ll add it to his stash.
So when you think of garden sheds
And the boring things pertained
Think of my Dad potting up his plants
and the calories contained.