I picked some flowers on a sunny day
Their flush, their bloom, made a lovely show.
Today, some flowers start to turn away
As beauty, colour first begins to slow.
Some have colour, others keep their beauty
Each after their genetics so entwined.
I remove them from their show place cutie
Knowing colours on a sunny day can blind.
From the vase to their old flower garden bed
I take them to the earth as compost to mix
With past decaying vegetation; they’re dead.
I picked new ones today, a count of six.
Flowers, I’ve learnt, though attractive, don’t last
Yet new ones rise, surpassing all the past!
A rewrite of an old set of thoughts, written (14/11/22) as a 4 lined, 5 stanza.\ Decide to turn this into a traditional sonnet.