Happy National Poetry Month: Poem 11

Posted on April 11, 2026 by Michelle Garren-Flye

10:34 a.m. I anticipate many interruptions today, so I’m going to get right to it. I saw, of all things, a Disney commercial today. It talked about playing. I also saw a VW bus parked in my neighbor’s carport. Intrigued, I stopped to talk to him about it. He said something about going to see a hippie band in it.

My brain combined the two things.

Sometimes you gotta stop to play
take a ride in a van to see a hippie band
splash in the puddles, act a little cray

the world's troubles on you may weigh
nothing may go as you had planned
so sometimes you gotta stop to play

you deserve to go on a break today
take a long walk along a beach of white sand
splash in the puddles, act a little cray

your life can sometimes go astray
or maybe you just imagined it more grand
sometimes you gotta stop to play

dress up is fun, or when the day is gray
play tag or castles, then go out and
splash in the puddles, act a little cray

games aren't just for kids, I say
when troubles make it hard to stand
that's when you gotta stop to play
splash in the puddles, act a little cray

11:11 a.m. make a wish.

11:12 a.m. It’s another villanelle. They’re both harder and easier than you might think. I’ve got to go over this one now. Make sure it’s got the right rhythm and rhyme.

Cray Play
by Michelle Garren-Flye

Sometimes you gotta stop to play:
take a ride in a van to see a hippie band,
splash in the puddles, act a little cray.

The world's troubles on you will weigh;
nothing may go as you had planned,
so sometimes you gotta stop to play.

You deserve to go on a break today!
Take a long walk along a beach of white sand,
splash in the puddles, act a little cray.

Your life can sometimes go astray—
or maybe you just imagined it more grand?
Maybe you ought to stop to play.

Dress up is fun, or when the day is gray
play tag or castles, then go out and
splash in the puddles, act a little cray.

Games aren't just for kids, I say!
When troubles make it hard to stand,
that's when you gotta stop to play,
splash in the puddles, act a little cray.

11:26 a.m. Done. What do you think?

Photo and poem copyright 2026 Michelle Garren-Flye

Happy National Poetry Month: Poem 10

Posted on April 10, 2026 by Michelle Garren-Flye

1:04 p.m. Something happened to me yesterday, and I want to preserve it. So I know what I want to write about but not what form. Let’s see what happens…

1:05 p.m.

i'm never going to be okay
was what i thought that day
but joy walked in

her bubbly enthusiasm
reached me across the chasm
i'd stuck myself in

and i couldn't help but wonder
if my sadness was a blunder
my depression a sin

i let her essence
sneak into my presence
though happiness was thin

i'll be back she said
and i forgot my dread
and what might have been

it's gonna be all right
every good thing in sight
because joy walked in

1:16 p.m. It’s honestly not what I was thinking of writing, which was more of a freeform kind of thing. Sometimes I wonder if I’ve forgotten how to write a freeform poem. Is that possible? That you forget how not to rhyme? Should we call Dr. Seuss syndrome? No doubt he would think of a more creative name. Anyway, here’s a go at rewriting:

joy
by michelle garren-flye

i'm never going to be okay
was what i thought that day
until joy walked in

her bubbly enthusiasm
reached me across the chasm
i'd stuck myself in

and i couldn't help but wonder
if my sadness was a blunder
my depression a sin

i let her essence
sneak into my presence
a warmth on my skin

i'll be back she said
and i forgot my dread
about what might have been

it's gonna be all right
every good thing now in sight
because joy walked in

1:22 p.m. I dunno. I’m running late with this one today, but maybe tomorrow I’ll try to rewrite in a freeform.

Happy National Poetry Month: Day 9

Posted on April 9, 2026 by Michelle Garren-Flye

10:50 a.m. Once again, I approach with nothing particular in mind.

I’m seeing more green on my morning walks. It’s nothing terribly new now. Spring has definitely done sprung. I love all the green, but I remember when I saw the first new sprigs.

Yesterday my horoscope asked me why I was holding onto the past so hard. It’s true. I do. The past is very important to me. Some things I want to remember. Some things I’d prefer to forget. Why do I want to hold onto all that? Because the future is unknown and I am afraid.

11:01 a.m. Sorry, had to take a quick break and make a cup of coffee. I have, from my musings above, come up with a kernel of an idea. I believe it will be another villanelle.

Let’s go!

let go of the past you've already seen
embrace what's to come, even the unknown 
let go of the past, the future is green

you know where you are and where you've been
there's nothing left there for which to atone
let go of the past you've already seen

the beauty of then will remain pristine
but time that has passed is already gone
let go of the past, the future's still green

i understand you lingering over that sheen
of what you accomplished with simple backbone
but let go of the past you've already seen

life has a way of casting a screen
making the past difficult to dethrone
but let go of the past the future is green

the road ahead may make you a queen
all you have to do is move on
let go of the past you've already seen
trust me, the future's still green

11:26 a.m. A few mild interruptions, but I managed the rough draft. Let’s see how long it takes to edit…

Let's Go
by Michelle Garren-Flye

Let go of the past you've already seen;
embrace what's to come, even the unknown. 
Let go of the past, the future is green.

You know where you are and where you've been—
there's nothing left there for which to atone.
Let go of the past you've already seen.

The beauty of "Then" will remain pristine,
but time that has passed is already gone.
Let go of the past, the future's still green.

I understand you lingering over the sheen
of what you accomplished with simple backbone,
but let go of the past you've already seen.

Life has a way of casting a screen
that makes the past difficult to dethrone,
but let go of the past! The future is green.

The road ahead may make you a queen;
all you have to do is move on,
let go of the past you've already seen,
and trust what lies ahead is still green.

11:37 a.m. When I was trying to come up with a title, I realized I already had it. That’s what I call serendipity.

Have an awesome day. Every minute is one more step into the future!

Photo and poetry copyright 2026 Michelle Garren-Flye

Happy National Poetry Month: Poem 8

Posted on April 8, 2026 by Michelle Garren-Flye

10:38 a.m. Here I am, fresh out of ideas of things to write about lol. But I think I’d like to write a villanelle. And as I am as inspired by our space heroes as anyone, I believe it will be about space. So here goes.

Catch a falling star for me, won't you?
Cup it in your hand and run to me;
light my face, my smile anew.

All the world may be astrew,
bombs fall, life thrown away with glee,
but catch a falling star for me, won't you?

I'll watch the brilliance break through
fingers clenched tight, and you will see
it light my face, my smile all new.

Wars are waged, the world is a zoo,
but right here and now, I can be happy;
catch a falling star for me, won't you?

Joys in this life may be few
grabbing onto them is the key
light my face, my smile anew

Up in space, you get a different view
where gravity releases and you are free
Catch a falling star for me, won't you?
Light my face, my smile anew.

11:04 a.m. Took a minute, but that’s the gist. Going to go over it again.

My Starlight Smile
by Michelle Garren-Flye

Catch a falling star for me, won't you?
Cup it in your hand and run to me;
light my face, my smile anew.

All the world may be astrew,
bombs fall, lives thrown away with glee,
but catch a falling star for me, won't you?

Just watch the brilliance break through
fingers clenched tight, and you will see
it light my face, my smile all new.

Wars are waged, the world is a zoo,
but right here and now, I can be happy;
catch a falling star for me, won't you?

Joys in this life may be few,
grabbing onto them is the key
to light my face, my smile renew.

Up in space, you get a different view
where gravity releases and you are free.
Catch a falling star for me, won't you?
Light my face, my smile anew.

11:10 a.m. I think that’s about it for today. There’s a store full of kids here and they’re very interested in the cat. And the cat isn’t terribly happy.

11:11 a.m. Make a wish.

Happy National Poetry Month: Poem 7

Posted on April 7, 2026 by Michelle Garren-Flye

10:18 a.m. Today I should be at work, but I’m at home because this is where I need to be. You see, on Easter Sunday, I went downstairs into our basement and discovered about six inches of water. Fun stuff.

Of course, it happened on Easter. National holiday and all that jazz. Fortunately I have a plumber who doesn’t mind me texting him, and so I did, but I added, please don’t come today. (I knew the price would be astronomical.) I then went downstairs and whacked my sump pump with a broomstick and it kicked on and started working.

Seriously when does that happen?

Anyway, long story short, the plumber is here today, and it’s not going to cost me my food budget for the month, and so I’m making this corner of my world a little better.

But what am I going to write about?

Basements in Eastern North Carolina? Creepy and not the best choice at all.

Plumbers who come to your rescue? Love them, but not poetic.

Which leaves me with the irises that are growing outside my house.

Queens of flowers.

They guard secrets.

This is feeling poetic.

10:26 a.m.

10:35 a.m. Okay, I may have to come back to this. My brain just isn’t doing the poetic thing right now. I’m going to go read over some of my old poems and see if I can get any fresh ideas.

12:39 p.m. That happens sometimes. Just a bit of difficulty focusing with other stuff going on. I’m not writing about Queen Iris, I don’t think. But I’m back in my bookstore now, plumbing has been settled for the moment. I’m counting blessings.

Ode to the Book I Just Sold
by Michelle Garren-Flye

It's not always easy, the bookseller life—
sometimes you want to stop a sale.
I want to keep that one, your soul will wail
as the last touch cuts your heart like a knife.

But letting go is what it's about
so little book I love, go out into the world!
Come back read, with pages bent and curled;
spread the knowledge readers can't do without.

Better, isn't it, than sitting on a shelf all day?
At least maybe make it to a reader's nightstand
where some night she'll pick you up, unplanned,
and get sucked into the worlds you display.

1:20 p.m. Maybe not the best poem I’ve written, but not horrible. I’m running late so I’m not going to rewrite now.

Happy National Poetry Month: Poem 6

Posted on April 6, 2026 by Michelle Garren-Flye

10:50 a.m. I’ve been thinking a lot about my corner of the world. My concept is that if everyone concentrated on making their corner of the world, no matter how big or small, a better place, the entire world would follow.

I know how lucky I am in my corner of the world. I have a beautiful home (currently with some plumbing issues, but you know…), and I have my store. I’ve worked very hard to make both warm and happy and beautiful.

Anyway, I think I’m going to use this concept for my next poetry book. And in that vein, today I want to write a poem about my corner of the world.

11 a.m.

If my corner of the world is dark
I find a lamp to give it light
if the walls are white and stark
I add a painting to save its plight

Silence is sometimes what I need
but I welcome a cat's sweet purr
and musical ditties that bleed
into nights when insects chirr

Soft grass outside, carpets within
greet tired feet after a long day
pillows for heads laid down in chagrin
I'm finally done with this long fray.

Make your corner of the world safe and true
to what you wish to see in the larger view.

11:11 make a wish.

11:12 Moving on. Now for a rewrite:

My Corner of the World
by Michelle Garren-Flye

If my corner of the world is dark
I find a lamp to give it light.
If the walls are white and stark
I add a painting to make it right.

Silence is sometimes what I need,
but I welcome a cat's sweet purr
and musical ditties that bleed
into nights when insects chirr.

Soft grass outside, carpets within,
greet tired feet after a long day.
Pillows for heads laid down in chagrin—
and finally done with the long fray.

Make your corner of the world safe and true
to what you wish to see in the larger view.

11:16 a.m. Okay! See you tomorrow!

Happy National Poetry Month: Poem 5

Posted on April 5, 2026 by Michelle Garren-Flye

2:15 p.m. Happy Easter! It’s raining a bit here, and I just got back in town after visiting my son, so I thought I’d write a poem about driving.

Haiku seems to lend itself to that, so here goes:

driving down the road
windshield covered with pollen
wipers don't work well

raindrops spread yellow
in spatters across the glass
i look into past

mistakes that haunt me
a life survived recklessly
weaving through the lanes

hard to spot flowers
growing on the road's shoulder
through yellow splotches

so i pull over
i breathe and seek clarity
and wipe the slate clean

2:28 p.m. I had to stop and think a little along the way, but I believe this captured that feeling I had as I drove today, my mind dwelling too long on past mistakes and missteps. It’s easy to get mired down in guilt.

Quick re-write and title:

driving down the road
windshield covered with pollen
wipers don't work well

raindrops spread yellow
in spatters across the glass
i look into past

mistakes that haunt me
a life survived recklessly
weaving through the lanes

hard-to-spot flowers
flourish on the road's shoulder
through yellow splotches

so i pull over
i breathe and seek clarity—
wipe the window clean

2:35 p.m. What do you think? I didn’t want to go into too much detail, but I did get sort of mired down and it felt like pollen on the windshield.

Happy National Poetry Month: Poem 4

Posted on April 4, 2026 by Michelle Garren-Flye

11 a.m. Trying to get started a little early today. Saturdays are usually busy at the store, and I have absolutely no idea what to write. I did take some pretty pictures this morning.

I think I’ll write about the pink rose. It’s the first perfect rose I’ve seen this spring. Others have been half bloomed or stunted by the cold snaps we’ve had. This one had perfect timing. Let’s try a villanelle.

Spring arrives with green glows
flowers, trees, insects abound
and you, finally, a perfect rose.

Pay no mind when wind blows
frost is gone till winter rolls round
spring has arrived with green glows.

and you, finally, a perfect rose

spring arrives with green glows

and you, finally, a perfect rose


spring arrives with green glows

and you, finally, a perfect rose

11:12 a.m. Pausing a moment here because I had to stop anyway to wait on someone at the store. It’s empty again, but I thought I’d explain how I write villanelle. It has a rhyming pattern where you use the same first and third lines. I usually end up altering those lines a bit. (You can tell I did at the end of the second verse above.) But to keep myself on track, I lay the sort of cornerstones before I write. Those are the last lines of each verse.

11:17 a.m. Back to it!

Spring arrives with green glows
flowers, trees, insects abound
and you, finally, a perfect rose.

Pay no mind when wind blows
frost is gone till winter rolls round
spring has arrived with green glows.

Sun is needed, everyone knows
to make violets and clover abound—
and you, finally, a perfect rose

There's no way to express in prose
how it feels when winter loses ground
and spring arrives with green glows

when everything thaws that cold froze
and pinks, reds, yellows arrive to astound
with you, finally, a perfect rose

When spring arrives with green glows
take a moment to rest and look around
Nature puts on her finest clothes
and dons, finally, a perfect rose

11:30 a.m. Finished, but looking back over it, I see a repeated rhyme (one that shouldn’t be repeated!). Lots of people in the store, but I’m going to get started on the rewrite now./

A Perfect Rose
by Michelle Garren-Flye

Spring arrives with green glows
flowers, trees, insects abound—
and you, finally, a perfect rose.

Pay no mind when the wind blows!
Frost is gone till winter rolls round.
Spring has arrived with green glows.

Sun is needed, everyone knows,
to warm the bluebird's song into sound
and summon you, my perfect rose.

There's no way to express in prose
how it feels when winter loses ground
and spring arrives with green glows,

when everything thaws that cold froze,
and pinks, reds, yellows arrive to astound
and give us at last a perfect rose.

When spring arrives with green glows
take a moment to rest and look around
as Nature puts on her finest clothes
and dons, finally, a perfect rose.

11:40 a.m. Amazing what a few minutes of quiet time can do for you. I think it’s good now. What do you think?

Happy National Poetry Month: Poem 3

Posted on April 3, 2026 by Michelle Garren-Flye

12:26 p.m. When I can’t think of anything to write about (like today), I write haiku. So today, I’ve decided, literally just now, to write a linked haiku. What about? Well, I just wrote a short article about a ghost cat. How about that? I shall write:

Ghost Cat by the Sea Haiku

12:28

sea breeze passes by
without ruffling his fur
ghost cat waits, lonely

sandy shores are home to him
he plays with side walking crabs

at night the light spears
through the sky above the shoals
ghost cat waits, on guard

did once his feat trod the deck
as he hunted mice below?

morning visitors
spot him in the deep shadows 
ghost cat purrs for them

but nights are long on the shore
as ghost cat waits for the morn

12:36 p.m. Okay. Not awful. Now a quick rewrite.

ghost cat by the sea
by michelle garren-flye

sea breeze passes by
without ruffling his fur
ghost cat waits, lonely

did once his feat trod the deck
of a ship long lost to wreck?

morning visitors
spot him in the deep shadows 
ghost cat purrs for them

the nights are long on the shore
as ghost cat waits for the morn

he sees the light spear
starry sky above the shoals
ghost cat waits, on guard

one hundred years on this shore
he may play here a hundred more

12:52 p.m. There’s one extra syllable in one of the lines, but it doesn’t mess things up, so I’m leaving it. I like the flow of the poem better now. It makes more sense to start in the light and move to the darkness. I also re-wrote a couple of lines.

For anyone interested, this is inspired by the ghost cat of Hatteras lighthouse. You can google it. Also google the cats left on the ghost ship Carol A. Deering. These three cats, the only survivors of the famous ghost ship, are only tangentially linked to the ghost cat of Hatteras as it is commonly believed to have belonged to a past lighthouse keeper. However, it has been speculated he might be one of the Deering’s cats.

Maybe he’s waiting there for the captain.

Happy National Poetry Month: Poem 2

Posted on April 2, 2026 by Michelle Garren-Flye

10:47 a.m. Good morning! Happy Day 2 of National Poetry Month. And so we begin our second live poem.

As I was getting the store opened and thinking about what to write about today, this line came to me.

April is a mystical month.

There aren’t many rhymes for “month”, and I do like to rhyme, regardless of what type of poetry I’m writing, so I changed it.

April is a mystical time.

Lots of rhymes for time. Rhyme, for one. So here goes, wish me luck. It might be a sonnet?

April is a mystical time
pause and listen to its heartbeat
the days are warm and almost kind
but nighttime is still a cheat

10:55 a.m. This is harder than I remember lol.

And I had to help some customers.

Full moon wends through trees to light
a meadow noisy with full-throated song
and new life joins the old in the night
dancing round a bonfire can't be wrong

11:11 a.m. make a wish!

11:12 a.m. back to work.

Make a wish on the waning moon
that the tides will change for the better
April is here but it ends oh so soon
the magic will change with the weather

11:15 a.m. I’ve found my direction now, so that one was easier. One sec. Derby’s meowing and I need to check on him.

11:18 a.m. Okay, going back to read over what I’ve written so I know what to do for the final couplet. (Derby was fine. Just wanted pets.)

The wish you make may float away to the past,
but then, magic was never meant to last.

11:20 a.m. That’s it! Not the best sonnet ever, but it’s passable. Gonna give it a quick sponge bath, and post the rewritten version here:

April 2
by Michelle Garren-Flye

April is a mystical time...
pause and listen to its heartbeat.
The days are warm and almost kind
but the night is still winter's cheat.

Full moon wends through trees to light
a meadow noisy with full-throated song,
and new life joins old in the night—
dancing round a bonfire can't be wrong!

Make a wish on the waning moon
that the tides will change for the better.
April is here but it ends—oh so soon!
The magic will change with the weather.

The wish you make may float away to the past,
but then, magic was never meant to last.