Lilt of tilt, askew, awry

The old shed sits askew on rollicking wavy hills.
Rocked and rolled to tilt askew
by time and wind relentless.
It sits compliant, defiant, wrinkled awry,
cantankerous and shameless,
knowing it won't be pulled done soon.
For in old age, you expect an awry lean out of kilter.
The warm patina of old age is cherished,
revered, and conserved as irreplaceable.
The lilt of tilt comes without saying, 
and awry is not out of place.