Compost Pile
A poem, lovely as a compost pile,
One lingers, sifts the elements awhile.
At first unclear, not all is evident;
Sharp images emerge as time is spent.
Though pieces, separate, may cause chagrin,
When taken as a whole, beauty's within.
To mull, to stew, to tease suggestions out
Though time elapses, ere they take shape, sprout.
For oft, a new direction is deduced,
Organic thoughts are grown, notions produced.
A poem such as this is never spurned,
But contemplated often, gently turned.
————-
FIRST PLACE WINNER
For the "A poem lovely as a" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Margarita Lillico
Written 03/03/2022
Copyright © Jeff Kyser | Year Posted 2022
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