Something In The Woodshed

My parents knew something was terribly wrong with me when the first poem I ever sat down and tried to memorize (as a 12 year old waiting for her siblings to finish soccer practice) was "Because I could not stop for Death" by Emily Dickinson. 

Of course, seeing my name on a book on my parent's dusty bookshelves got me curious and I took it down and started reading it. I instantly fell in love with Emily and her writing and I have taken that love and written my own poems since middle school. 

I wrote this poem off of the absurd idea (I get a lot of those) that something was in my in-law's woodshed. Nothing was of course -- except some spiders -- but the romantic idea stuck with me. So here you are, a silly poem about a silly idea that my sister Abigail and I had quite a lot of fun acting out. I hope you enjoy it!

Something In The Woodshed

A poem by Emily Zahasky

"There's something in the woodshed!" my sister whispered loud.
"Something shining brightly, and that something must be found!"

It was very dark that evening, we had both been in our beds.
But that something woke my sister, and she got it in her head
that the something must be captured for it twinkled and it shown.
And our bedroom window glimmered like a single star alone.

So out from under quilts and covers we both flew to the door,
Down the stairs we hurried and across the kitchen floor.
We grabbed our shawls and wellies and from the door we stole a peak...
But the yard was black and lightless all the way down to the street.

So through the grass we tiptoed, the woodshed now in sight
And we thought we heard a tinkling echo through the silent night.
And as we neared the woodshed a glimmer warm and clear
Cut through all the darkness, and filled us both with fear!

But then the music started and it sounded so divine

That we both looked in the woodshed, and the something we did find!

Between the logs and firewood, upon the woodshed floor
A shining parade of fairies were flying through the door.
And in a circle full of light they danced all to and fro,
While my sister and I sat and pondered if we should stay or go.

The sight was truly lovely, but we felt so out of place:
Wearing our silly nightgowns (most certainly a disgrace!).
But the fairies looked so friendly and so gloriously attired,
That we joined and danced the night away, until we both were tired.

The next morning dawned bright and sunny when we awoke within our beds,
Not remembering sleep nor slumber, though fairies danced in our heads.
The woodshed looked quite boring when we saw it again by day,
And our parents didn't believe that we'd danced the night away.