Author Archives: Michelle Garren-Flye

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About Michelle Garren-Flye

I am an author of romance, poetry, children's books and graphic novels. I also own a bookstore. My love of the written word runs deep.

Poem 14 (National Poetry Month): How to Write a Sonnet

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How to Write a Proper Sonnet

By Michelle Garren Flye

First, find someone whom you can pledge your heart;

Second, you’ll want to make sure you can rhyme;

Next, make certain you’ve perfected the art

Of striking the beat and staying on time.

Taking the next step is a bit tricky—

Into your feelings you’ll need to dig deep.

Telling us how you feel can get sticky,

But trust me, get ready to take that leap.

Fill your lungs with all the air and desire

You are able to rouse on short notice.

Holler out your emotions with fire!

Then postpone to see who reads your opus.

Instead you could do what I have done here:

Follow the steps without getting too dear.

Photo by Michelle Garren Flye

Poem 13 (National Poetry Month): In the Middle of the Storm

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In the Middle of the Storm

By Michelle Garren Flye

In the middle of the storm

There’s no time for wondering

If what we are doing is right

(That’s what preparation is for)

The noise and distraction

Leave no room for discussion

About what we’re supposed to do

(So we just do and hope)

It’s only after that we find out

It’s only when we stand on the edge

And survey what’s left that we know

(If we’re lucky enough anyway)

History watches every decision

Written by victors (or victorias)

A reflection of what we did

In the middle of the storm

Photo by Michelle Garren Flye

Poem 12 (National Poetry Month): (un)social

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(un)social

By Michelle Garren Flye

if I waste my time worrying

what others might think

my life may pass in a blink

leaving me sorrowing

(whose fault would that be

where does the blame lie

if common courtesy I defy

and refuse to say I’m sorry)

life goes on with and without

toilet paper on the shelves

and the news overwhelms

the very people it is about

I’ll just drink my corona (beer)

with a little slice of lime

and we’ll talk another time

no matter what you may hear

Happy Easter. Photo by Michelle Garren Flye

Poem 11 (National Poetry Month): Leakage

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Another attempt at rhyming poetry. Some are better than others

Leakage

By Michelle Garren Flye

The pool in the forest looks endless and deep.

But I know a secret that I will always keep.

The stream that away from the pool leads

Now has all the water a little stream needs.

But look closer, look harder, and you will find

That time to the stream will not be kind.

Upstream a dam has been built to cut off

The flow to the pool and the stream’s runoff.

Does the pool know it is leaking away?

Will it attempt to make the water stay?

Or just like us, it may avoid the strife

And allow the leakage to continue for life.

Photo by Michelle Garren Flye

Poem 10 (National Poetry Month): World of Fire

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World of Fire

By Michelle Garren Flye

It’s hard to inspire

In a world of fire.

It’s best to prevent

Such a common event.

If day to day life

Is uncommon strife

The world fails

To hear your wails.

In a world of fire,

Down to the wire,

Very little impresses.

Even your caresses.

Every day a travail

No way to set sail

No way to escape—

This is your fate.

Photo by Michelle Garren Flye

Poem 9 (National Poetry Month): Inspiration Comes After the Storm

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Photo by Michelle Garren Flye

A walk after rain is often enlightening. A walk after rain in the spring never fails to bring to mind e.e. cummings. A walk after rain while thinking of e.e. cummings will either bring inspiration…or make you feel like a dullard. I’ve had it both ways, but I still like to try.

April 9, 2020

Inspiration After the Storm

By Michelle Garren Flye

Shhh.

This is my favorite part.

After the storm,

When the world comes back to life.

Listen.

The birds sing their

Survivor song.

I walk quiet

Through the mud-

Luscious world

Cummings warned me about.

Careful. Feel it?

Desire.

For the words

For the waiting photo

For inspiration—

But all I see is the mess after the storm.

Leaves and branches

Cast aside,

Petals litter

Wet pavement.

My dog stops to watch as a bird bathes in a puddle—

But I didn’t bring the right lens.

We walk on…Oh,

Where is my balloon man?

But wait.

Listen.

Shhh.

I hear him now.

Or maybe it’s a frog.

No, look.

That leaf is new.

That rose.

That puddle with petals

Of the dogwood tree

Drowned inside.

Oh yes.

This is my favorite part.

Inspiration always comes after the storm.

Photo by Michelle Garren Flye

Poem 8 (National Poetry Month): Spellbound

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April 8, 2020

Spellbound

By Michelle Garren Flye

I stopped for the butterfly,

Spellbound by his splendor,

As if he were dressed in finery

At an event where I wore jeans.

Sunlight sparked jeweled wings,

Black and gold speckled shade.

Magnificence in the midst

Of common beauty.

He took no notice of me

Though I froze in place

To make way for his jaywalking.

He just fluttered by,

Leaving me foolish,

A heart-deep longing

He woke in me.

Out of focus, but maybe that’s best. Photo by Michelle Garren Flye

Poem 7 (National Poetry Month): Mother’s Storm

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April 7, 2020

Mother’s Storm

By Michelle Garren Flye

The storm hit us finally, with a smack—

A big, backhanded, whack.

We didn’t know quite what to think.

Why would Mother do us this way?

Why cast us into the fray?

Why would she push us to the brink?

And yet rain poured, and the water rose.

We were in it up to our nose.

And the storm, we found, was the link.

We figured out Mother wasn’t just mad,

No, our Mother was downright bad.

She wanted to blind us, wanted us to sink.

That’s not in a mother’s nature, it is true,

But when she’s thrown askew,

Mother Nature will kill without a blink.

Photo by Michelle Garren Flye

Poem 6 (National Poetry Month): Mortality

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April 6, 2020

Mortality

By Michelle Garren Flye

Immortal words are hard to match.

Immortal actions impossible to catch.

Mere humans cannot hope to fight

What Gods defeat with a show of might.

Yet we plod on, we persist in trying.

Some may even come close to flying.

But most of us remain on the ground,

Our wings clipped, our feet earth-bound.

Do the Gods of Olympus laugh at our effort?

Do they snicker as we grovel in the dirt?

Or maybe some of them can’t help but admire

That rain and wind cannot defeat human fire.

Mortal deeds may be undone over time.

Statues fall, paintings fade, words fail to rhyme.

But persistence in spite of defeat impresses,

And that alone accounts for our successes.

Photo by Michelle Garren Flye

Poem 5 (National Poetry Month): Light

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Light

By Michelle Garren Flye

I see you.

Falling, gliding, from the sky.

You slide across a spider web,

Amazing feat of parkour.

Skating across the water,

Dancing, dazzling.

You skip nimble from ripple to ripple.

Even when the curtains are shut, you sneak in.

Sometimes you hurt.

Maybe you don’t mean it, but you do.

I turn away, close my eyes against the tears,

But they come anyway.

You never fail me, though, even in the darkest night

And bleakest day, I can find you.

I see you,

And that’s your gift.

Light. Photo by Michelle Garren Flye