Look at my yard, see all the weeds; it takes no time at all for them to grow. Surprising because I sowed no seeds— ’tis aggravating! I don’t want to mow!
But look, sprinkled in, the yellow and pink blooms well loved by butterfly and bee. They stop awhile to get a quick drink; it’d be a shame to deny them their glee.
I’ll put off the chore until tomorrow, and instead join the insects in the field. Forget the weeds, the troubles and sorrow; when I look at the flowers my soul is healed.
Seldom ever is there a field of waste— Beauty will grow in the same place.
Spring has its own kind of power, it gets straight from Apollo. April’s blessings blossom and shower along the flower path you follow.
How long has it been since you felt the sun shine on your shoulders, making you happy (like John used to say, in the yarn he spun)? Winter was so long and the weather, crappy.
In the evening, sit down to watch the star shine as the sky goes from blue to orange to black. No velvet cloth has ever been so fine as this background is for the zodiac.
Be still as the clouds gather for rain… With luck, it will only bring passing pain.
Photo and poem copyright 2025 Michelle Garren-Flye
Today is my birthday, so I wrote a poem. It’s still pretty rough, and it’s actually two poems since I’m still doing the sonnet-from-a-haiku thing. Anyway, here it is along with the photo I took that inspired it.
Misty morn in spring Sidewalk stretches steadily I’m caught in happy
Sidewalk Stroll on my birthday By Michelle Garren-Flye
Today, the day I turn fifty-something, I see the sidewalk stretch ahead, a true flower path on this day in spring, warmth after the winter we suffered.
I salute the sun, bathe in the breeze, meander about in midnight moonlight; happy to live for a moment at ease with nothing to mourn, no one to fight.
Grateful for all that gives my life spice because living too easy just makes you fat. For true happiness, you must pay a price and sometimes it will knock you down flat.
Today, I know I’ll follow my sidewalk to the end; I’ll round every corner, never hesitate at a bend.
Photo and poem copyright 2025 Michelle Garren-Flye
My mother, Geraldine “Gerry” Garren, 84, passed away two years ago on this day. I wrote this for her, but it was also inspired by others I know who are suffering. This month has been a cruel one for many.
I hope this will give someone hope, because I truly believe that if you love someone and they love you, death does not take that love. I don’t think it can.
This poem is my theory of what happens to that love…and why it makes your heart ache.
What Happens to the Love? By Michelle Garren-Flye
Losing you left all the edges: your love moved into my heart… god it hurts when it stretches.
Indelible, your love stresses; oh, can I bear this part? Losing you left me with edges.
Death can’t claim successes, so love moves in with art, causes aches as it stretches.
Accept the way it presses and tears your chest apart; losing someone leaves edges.
Patience, time progresses and lightens what once was hard. Just breathe as the heart stretches.
Grief is the way love compresses your love and mine as one in my heart. Yes, it hurts when it stretches, and sometimes I still feel the edges.
Photo and poem copyright 2025 Michelle Garren-Flye
BREATHE: Michelle Garren-Flye 