Poem: Acquittal (not what you’re thinking…or is it?)

Acquittal

By Michelle Garren Flye

No other flower matches the daffodil

For merrymaking in spring.

Enjoy its jocund spirit for it lasts

But a momentary fling.

The yellow blossoms nod and sway, but

The moment is gone too soon.

They acquit themselves in splendor

And are gone within a moon.

No time spent gazing at yellow buds

Should be considered wasted.

For the moment ends, and memory remains

Of the golden glory so ill-fated.

If only all acquittals left such a taste?

If only all fates were so well spent.

If only we took the time to be sure

We knew what each one meant.

Poem: In Her Prime

I have a particular affinity for daffodils. I’ve taken dozens of pictures of them this spring alone. They’re almost done here, but I found this lovely this morning, and it seemed like a special gift to me. So I wrote a poem about her.

In Her Prime

By Michelle Garren Flye

A little wrinkled,

She holds up her bobbing head.

Not done yet, she says.

Author’s Note: Happy shared birthday, RBG. Sometimes wrinkles make you stronger.

I’m Building an Army of Daffodils (poem and pictures)

With great respect for Emily Dickinson

I’m Building an Army of Daffodils (with pictures as proof)

By Michelle Garren Flye

I’m building an army of daffodils.

It grows larger every day.

New recruits swell the ranks,

Bursting to take up the fight.

You’d think they’d be frightened,

But slender stems are strong,

And I’ve found them guarding

The most dark and unfriendly places.

Time and toil cannot dim golden rays.

Weather cannot bring them down.

I’m heartened by their constant grace,

Humbled by their passing allegiance.