Poem 16
Easter
By Michelle Garren Flye
Renewal of life.
Treasures to find in the spring.
Happy Easter Day.
Author Archives: Michelle Garren-Flye
National Poetry Month: Poem 15
A little intro to this poem is needed I think. On Wednesday, April 12, Beverly Cleary celebrated her 101st birthday. Yes, she’s still alive. Of all the authors of all the books I’ve ever read, Beverly Cleary may mean the most to me. I read her books as a child. Ralph the mouse’s adventures inspired me. Ramona’s made me laugh. Socks the cat’s story turned me into a more sensitive cat person. And most of all, Beverly Cleary inspired me to become a writer with this quote:
If you don’t see the book you want on the shelf, write it.
And so this poem is for a truly great, awesomely inspiring writer. Thank you, Beverly Cleary.
Poem 15
Beverly Cleary 101
By Michelle Garren Flye
If you don’t see the book you want to read,
Write it.
If you can’t find a shore to live on,
Explore.
If no store stocks the tool you need,
Invent it.
If the cure for your disease isn’t available,
Experiment.
Grow the food you want to eat but can’t find.
Make the furniture you’ve always wanted.
Imagine, envision, discover…
Live the life you want to live.
National Poetry Month: Poem 14
Poem 14
Spider
By Michelle Garren Flye
She perches on her web.
She isn’t moving.
…Is she?
Eight-legged freak.
But if she stays there,
It’ll be okay.
Right?
I don’t like this.
There…I saw her move.
She’ll slink down
If I look away.
Creepy crawly!
But wait!
Is that a mosquito
Caught in her web?
I hate mosquitoes.
Maybe…she’s not so bad.
National Poetry Month: Poem 13
Almost missed this one. Busy day…
Poem 13
Heirlooms
By Michelle Garren Flye
A dusty place inside my brain.
A room with one shaft of light.
Filled with memories filed away
…Ideas stowed for future design.
When I find myself at a loss,
Then I revisit the dusty gloom
And paw through the mossy
Files of memory’s heirlooms.
National Poetry Month: Poem 12
Please keep in mind that these poems are written very much off-the-cuff, usually when I sit down at the computer to update this blog. So they’re very rough. Some of them aren’t very good. Some of them I’m not sure about. Maybe some of them will speak to some of you, maybe others won’t appeal to anyone. It’s a fun thing to try, though, writing a poem a day. I highly recommend it.
Poem 12
Pink Moon
By Michelle Garren Flye
When the moon turned pink,
The flowers bloomed and you said you loved me.
But there’s no such thing as a pink moon
And that makes love extraordinary.
Moonlight doesn’t change colors.
Nature is what makes the flowers bloom.
Everyone knows the moon is green
…Except when it’s blue.
National Poetry Month: Poem 11
Poem 11
Mandala Journey
By Michelle Garren Flye
I take a trip inside my head
Through swirls of colors
And intricate patterns.
My feet would be sandy
If this journey were real—
But what color sand?
Blue for the sky,
Red for the blossoms,
Yellow for the sun.
A mental journey for me
Along the paths and
To rest in the garden.
National Poetry Month: Poem 10
This is harder than I thought it’d be. So many things I’d like to write about come out seeming trite in poetry. Here’s my offering for today:
Poem 10
Bumblebees
By Michelle Garren Flye
Did you know she could sting more than once?
It’s not a suicide mission like with a honeybee.
The bumble can rule the planet if she wants.
But she’s content carrying out her mission,
Visiting the flowers and making her honey.
Pausing to check out her reflection in my window.
National Poetry Month: Poem 9
Note: A perfect example of rough draft. I just realized I misspelled “deliquesce” in the first draft, which meant a total rewrite of the first stanza of the poem. Nice.
Poem 9
Crossword
By Michelle Garren Flye
Ten letters, means liquefy.
There’s that word.
The one I keep seeing.
Deliquesce.
A term from chemistry
But it sounds like more.
Like something sweet,
Almost romantic.
But it’s not romantic
When ice cream deliquesces,
Or steel, or even
A body.
Then it’s loss.
Destruction of property.
Decomposition.
Deliquescence.
National Poetry Month: Poem 8
Poem 8
Little Girl in a Flowered Dress
By Michelle Garren Flye
There’s a little girl
Wearing a flowered dress
In my kitchen.
So pretty.
There’s a little girl
Wearing a flowered dress
In Russia somewhere.
She’s lovely.
There’s a little girl
Wearing a flowered dress
In Syria.
Her father says it’s time to go.
Time to run.
They’re coming.
She grabs her favorite doll.
Takes her little brother by the hand.
And they run into the street.
National Poetry Month: Poem 7
A little late with this one, and I tried a little rhyming. No real scheme to it, but maybe that would come in a later draft.
Poem 7
Bang, Explained
By Michelle Garren Flye
I just heard a bang downstairs.
The house is dark and cold.
No one’s home but me, I know,
Cause Mom went to the store.
Do I investigate?
Oh, I can’t be that bold.
Tiptoe to the banister and peer below?
Surely it’s better to wait.
That was a creak,
But I’ve heard that one before.
What could that bang have been?
I’ll just go back to my game.
There’s nothing here to hurt me now.
There, I heard it again!
What’s down there creeping around?
I’d better go check—no, wait!
That’s nothing at all but the cat at my door.
Maybe’s he’s lonely…like me.
BREATHE: Michelle Garren-Flye 