It’s 11:15 a.m. I have not written a poem to share. Nope. So I’m going to write one right now. Live…ish.
Excuse me a moment while I go find a prompt I like.
Oooh. Found one. On this website. Number 10. “Create a gallery of your heart. Take readers on a guided tour of what they might see there.” That immediately sparked my imagination. So here goes.
By Michelle Garren Flye
Watch your step, it’s showing its age
this old heart gallery of mine.
But really the cracks set the stage
and let the artwork shine!
Over here, memories of days gone—
you’ll see Mama’s picture set up high—
and the nest from which I’ve long since flown,
those who watched as I took to the sky.
Baby pictures, treasures—it may seem inane—
letters of old love, scraps of life on display…
Most of it appears designed to cause me pain—
the open book of my past I failed to file away.
I will not banish any of it from my trove,
because, above all, I feel only love.
It’s 11:45 a.m. I just finished the edits. It’s not bad. A sort of sonnet. What do you think?