Happy National Poetry Month: Poem 4

11 a.m. Trying to get started a little early today. Saturdays are usually busy at the store, and I have absolutely no idea what to write. I did take some pretty pictures this morning.

I think I’ll write about the pink rose. It’s the first perfect rose I’ve seen this spring. Others have been half bloomed or stunted by the cold snaps we’ve had. This one had perfect timing. Let’s try a villanelle.

Spring arrives with green glows
flowers, trees, insects abound
and you, finally, a perfect rose.

Pay no mind when wind blows
frost is gone till winter rolls round
spring has arrived with green glows.

and you, finally, a perfect rose

spring arrives with green glows

and you, finally, a perfect rose


spring arrives with green glows

and you, finally, a perfect rose

11:12 a.m. Pausing a moment here because I had to stop anyway to wait on someone at the store. It’s empty again, but I thought I’d explain how I write villanelle. It has a rhyming pattern where you use the same first and third lines. I usually end up altering those lines a bit. (You can tell I did at the end of the second verse above.) But to keep myself on track, I lay the sort of cornerstones before I write. Those are the last lines of each verse.

11:17 a.m. Back to it!

Spring arrives with green glows
flowers, trees, insects abound
and you, finally, a perfect rose.

Pay no mind when wind blows
frost is gone till winter rolls round
spring has arrived with green glows.

Sun is needed, everyone knows
to make violets and clover abound—
and you, finally, a perfect rose

There's no way to express in prose
how it feels when winter loses ground
and spring arrives with green glows

when everything thaws that cold froze
and pinks, reds, yellows arrive to astound
with you, finally, a perfect rose

When spring arrives with green glows
take a moment to rest and look around
Nature puts on her finest clothes
and dons, finally, a perfect rose

11:30 a.m. Finished, but looking back over it, I see a repeated rhyme (one that shouldn’t be repeated!). Lots of people in the store, but I’m going to get started on the rewrite now./

A Perfect Rose
by Michelle Garren-Flye

Spring arrives with green glows
flowers, trees, insects abound—
and you, finally, a perfect rose.

Pay no mind when the wind blows!
Frost is gone till winter rolls round.
Spring has arrived with green glows.

Sun is needed, everyone knows,
to warm the bluebird's song into sound
and summon you, my perfect rose.

There's no way to express in prose
how it feels when winter loses ground
and spring arrives with green glows,

when everything thaws that cold froze,
and pinks, reds, yellows arrive to astound
and give us at last a perfect rose.

When spring arrives with green glows
take a moment to rest and look around
as Nature puts on her finest clothes
and dons, finally, a perfect rose.

11:40 a.m. Amazing what a few minutes of quiet time can do for you. I think it’s good now. What do you think?

©2026 Michelle Garren-Flye

Happy National Poetry Month: Poem 3

12:26 p.m. When I can’t think of anything to write about (like today), I write haiku. So today, I’ve decided, literally just now, to write a linked haiku. What about? Well, I just wrote a short article about a ghost cat. How about that? I shall write:

Ghost Cat by the Sea Haiku

12:28

sea breeze passes by
without ruffling his fur
ghost cat waits, lonely

sandy shores are home to him
he plays with side walking crabs

at night the light spears
through the sky above the shoals
ghost cat waits, on guard

did once his feat trod the deck
as he hunted mice below?

morning visitors
spot him in the deep shadows
ghost cat purrs for them

but nights are long on the shore
as ghost cat waits for the morn

12:36 p.m. Okay. Not awful. Now a quick rewrite.

ghost cat by the sea
by michelle garren-flye

sea breeze passes by
without ruffling his fur
ghost cat waits, lonely

did once his feat trod the deck
of a ship long lost to wreck?

morning visitors
spot him in the deep shadows
ghost cat purrs for them

the nights are long on the shore
as ghost cat waits for the morn

he sees the light spear
starry sky above the shoals
ghost cat waits, on guard

one hundred years on this shore
he may play here a hundred more

12:52 p.m. There’s one extra syllable in one of the lines, but it doesn’t mess things up, so I’m leaving it. I like the flow of the poem better now. It makes more sense to start in the light and move to the darkness. I also re-wrote a couple of lines.

For anyone interested, this is inspired by the ghost cat of Hatteras lighthouse. You can google it. Also google the cats left on the ghost ship Carol A. Deering. These three cats, the only survivors of the famous ghost ship, are only tangentially linked to the ghost cat of Hatteras as it is commonly believed to have belonged to a past lighthouse keeper. However, it has been speculated he might be one of the Deering’s cats.

Maybe he’s waiting there for the captain.

Photo and poem copyright 2026 Michelle Garren-Flye

Happy National Poetry Month: Poem 2

10:47 a.m. Good morning! Happy Day 2 of National Poetry Month. And so we begin our second live poem.

As I was getting the store opened and thinking about what to write about today, this line came to me.

April is a mystical month.

There aren’t many rhymes for “month”, and I do like to rhyme, regardless of what type of poetry I’m writing, so I changed it.

April is a mystical time.

Lots of rhymes for time. Rhyme, for one. So here goes, wish me luck. It might be a sonnet?

April is a mystical time
pause and listen to its heartbeat
the days are warm and almost kind
but nighttime is still a cheat

10:55 a.m. This is harder than I remember lol.

And I had to help some customers.

Full moon wends through trees to light
a meadow noisy with full-throated song
and new life joins the old in the night
dancing round a bonfire can't be wrong

11:11 a.m. make a wish!

11:12 a.m. back to work.

Make a wish on the waning moon
that the tides will change for the better
April is here but it ends oh so soon
the magic will change with the weather

11:15 a.m. I’ve found my direction now, so that one was easier. One sec. Derby’s meowing and I need to check on him.

11:18 a.m. Okay, going back to read over what I’ve written so I know what to do for the final couplet. (Derby was fine. Just wanted pets.)

The wish you make may float away to the past,
but then, magic was never meant to last.

11:20 a.m. That’s it! Not the best sonnet ever, but it’s passable. Gonna give it a quick sponge bath, and post the rewritten version here:

April 2
by Michelle Garren-Flye

April is a mystical time...
pause and listen to its heartbeat.
The days are warm and almost kind
but the night is still winter's cheat.

Full moon wends through trees to light
a meadow noisy with full-throated song,
and new life joins old in the night—
dancing round a bonfire can't be wrong!

Make a wish on the waning moon
that the tides will change for the better.
April is here but it ends—oh so soon!
The magic will change with the weather.

The wish you make may float away to the past,
but then, magic was never meant to last.

11:24 a.m. And so it is done.

Photo and poem copyright 2026 Michelle Garren-Flye

Happy National Poetry Month: Poem 1

April snuck up on me! I don’t have a theme picked!

So I decided to do something I’ve done before and write a live poem each day.

Here goes today’s, which I will be using in the window of my book store (I’ll post a pic later):

April Haiku

April shower blooms

month flowers beautifully

pause a moment…read

April Haiku

April shower blooms

month flowers beautifully

pause a moment…read

Photo and poem copyright 2026 Michelle Garren-Flye

More tomorrow!

National Poetry Month Day 30: Poem 30 Sonnet 15

And so it’s done. And it was really fun. A challenge indeed. Perhaps some rest I need.

Sonnet 15

Fashion Flash

Purple is the color this spring;
from coast to coast, it is the rage.
Don lavender attire when dressing—
perform a twirl as you take the stage.

Forget the pinks and greens of yesteryear;
cast off rose-colored raiment and robe.
Today’s tint is arrived, it’s here!
Making a mark all around the globe.

Try on every dress but discard each?
You can’t expect to become a violet
The iris, too, is beyond your reach.
Such finery, no, you can’t acquire it.

But…maybe it’s better not to pretend?
We can only be ourselves in the end.
Photo and poem copyright 2025 Michelle Garren-Flye

National Poetry Month Day 29: Poem 29 Haiku 15

I started out this month wondering if I could do it.

Haiku 15

turn your face to sun
indigo star in my yard
purple radiance
Photo and poem copyright 2025 Michelle Garren-Flye

National Poetry Month Day 28: Poem 28 Sonnet 14

Sonnet 14

Choosing the Battle

Wait if you will for the wind to blow
you from your stem into the world,
I refuse to believe I’m just for show,
though it’s easier to wait, arms unfurled

for the next breath to set me aflight.
Instead of struggling over the hilltops
to the crest of the mountain—always a fight—
just let the breeze carry me through raindrops.

But no, it’s my life, I must make my own way,
carry my own weight where I wish to go.
If I tamely wait here, I may fall prey
to lethargic languor and become too slow.

I will struggle on always though it is hard
and I may arrive at last, battered and scarred.
Photo and poem copyright 2025 Michelle Garren-Flye

National Poetry Month Day 27: Poem 27 Haiku 14

Haiku 14

final flower peaks
flourishing among the dead
faith keeps it alive
Photo and poem copyright Michelle Garren-Flye

National Poetry Month Day 26: Poem 26 Sonnet 13

Sonnet 13

Spring’s Mad Dance

Do you want to waltz with spring?
When everyone’s in their best dress
throw out your arms, embrace everything!
Let worries and fears go to rest!

Look here, the roses are blushing pink,
the shy daisy is showing his heart.
Bold azalea has awarded you a wink
and the dance has yet to start!

Sweet violet, won’t you stay by my side
when others crowd out on the floor?
You and I can find a place to hide;
I know I’d never ask for more.

In the midst of spring’s mad dance
let’s pause and give love a chance.
Photo and poem copyright 2025 Michelle Garren-Flye

National Poetry Month Day 25: Poem 25 Haiku 13

Haiku 13

rose swirls gracefully
petals pink, precisely placed
a static samba
Poem and photo copyright 2025 Michelle Garren-Flye