Sonnet Saturday (#3)-- Forgiveness

So, because of travelling for work and just life in general, I didn't write a sonnet for last week, but I did for this week, so here it is.  Once I have the Elizabethan Sonnet down, I think I want to try some of the other sonnet forms.  One step at a time, though!

Forgiveness (Sonnet #3)

Egg shells, apple cores, coffee grinds, and more

In a heap, smelling vaguely like old socks.

Time to turn this pile gardeners adore:

Discards and trash morphed into seeds' toy box.

Not everything belongs in this treasure.

No matter the size, rocks will not crumble

Through heat, bacteria, and time's measure:

Nature's intransigence makes one humble.

They go elsewhere to confine, to create--

A seat, a bridge, or simple stepping stone.

They may not foster growth, but fascinate

The eye, the heart, the vista when not thrown.

Like compost, we forgive to readjust

And nourish the soil that grows mutual trust.

We had bins like this for compost near the greenhouses for my Horticulture class in High School. Too bad I have a black thumb of death!