The smell of sawdust shavings greet me
As I walk in through the door
How sad am I in knowing
I won't see your face here anymore

Such a craftsman you were
In your carpentry trade
So many beautiful things
From your skilled hands were made

This shed it was your refuge
A place where you spent many days
Now it seems so empty and quiet
It's like the sun has lost its rays

The tools you once worked with
Now lay forlorn amongst the dust
So many of your favourite tools
With time now have begun to rust

Your woodturning machine now lays dormant
Out of use now for over two years
The stool where you once sat remains empty
And the glass of the window is not clear

Smells of oil and timber now linger
In this place that we called your second home
And I take great comfort in knowing
That in this place your spirit still roams