By Peter Contardo…well, actually, I was “CHATting this content up with my GreenPostTeam, and they also helped 😉

‘Twas the night before compost, and all through the bin,

Not a veggie was stirring, no coffee grounds within.

The scraps were all nestled, so cozy with care,

In hopes that rich soil soon would be there.

The worms were snug, deep down in their beds,

While visions of lettuce leaves danced in their heads.

And Macie with her spade, and I with my rake,

Had just settled down after tidying the cake (carrot cake, of course! 🥕 ).

When out in the yard there arose such a clatter,

I sprang from the house to see what was the matter.

Away to the compost, I flew like a flash,

To turn the old pile and mix in the stash.

The moon on the mound of brown leaves and green scraps

Gave a magical glow to our sustainability map.

When what to my wondering eyes should appear,

But Farmer Lundyn with a pitchfork near!

“Magic Dirt’s coming!” she whispered with cheer,

“Thanks to your scraps at this time of year!

From banana peels to shirts of cotton,

This pile’s the proof that nothing’s forgotten!”

She spoke not a word but went straight to her work,

Turning the compost with a knowledgeable smirk.

And laying a finger aside of her brim,

She gave me a nod, her eyes ever so grim:

“Remember, dear friend, as you compost away,

Tiny actions like these bring a brighter day.

Magic dirt is real, it’s the earth’s perfect gift,

Turning WASTE TO WOW, giving us farmers a lift!”

And with that, she was gone, off into the night,

But the compost pile glowed, warm and bright.

I heard her exclaim, as she drove out of sight,

“Happy Compost to all, and to all a GREEN night!”

Peter Contardo