Haiku 4
pink and yellow blooms
spring up all over my yard
is it time to mow?
National Poetry Month, Day 7: Poem 7 Haiku 4
Tag Archives: poem
National Poetry Month, Day 6: Poem 6, Sonnet 3
Sonnet 3
Healing Night
Night falls over my little home
and stars poke out from the sky.
Clouds cover moon with gentle foam;
traffic silenced, I hear the treefrog cry.
Peace is what I seek this night—
I want quiet, just a little break.
Warm velvet replaces spotlight:
comforts, soothes, relieves the ache.
In spring it is easy to find peace
in the warm, calm hours of eventide.
Look beyond the flowers and trees
to the stars and moon in the sky outside.
Let go of the fears and unease you feel;
allow your heart-deep cracks to heal.
National Poetry Month, Day 5: Poem 5, Haiku 3
Haiku 3
Primal spring nightfall
Over my house and garden
Stars stab cirrus clouds
National Poetry Month Day 3: Poem 3, Haiku 2
(This titling thing I’m doing is gonna get complicated!)
Haiku 2
bee clings to clover
bumbles through spring’s new blossoms
vernal blessings thrive
National Poetry Month Day 2: Poem 2, Sonnet 1
Sonnet 1
Spring Power
By Michelle Garren-Flye
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.
National Poetry Month Day 1: Poem 1, Haiku 1
Haiku 1
April showers blessings
warm weather and flower paths
rain comes later on
Poem: Sidewalk Stroll
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
Poem for Mama: What Happens to the Love?
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.
Poem: Can’t Touch
Happy Valentine’s Day! (with respect to M.C. Hammer)
Can’t Touch
By Michelle Garren-Flye
Nothing ever really touches
so you can’t touch my heart.
No matter how the blood rushes,
I’m untouchable from the start.
Tis just the repulsion of electrons
that you feel upon your hand.
That’s what fires up your neurons;
it’s nothing like love so grand.
No atom will share its ground
no matter how you may sigh.
To laws of physics we are bound;
can’t escape! Give up, don’t try.
Nothing ever really touches
no matter how the blood rushes.
Poem: Spring Scheming
I have been experimenting with haiku and sonnets. I have written sonnets based on haiku and haiku based on sonnets. I should probably make a note about which is which. I will eventually publish all of them (or all that are worthwhile, anyway), but of course, I can’t wait for that. Here’s my most recent attempt.
winter’s mossy wrap
cannot hold back spring blossoms
riotous reform
Spring Scheming
Winter’s moss won’t hold me back!
No, in spring I’ll bloom anyway.
When the night is less black
and winds make new leaves sway.
Patchy growths won’t take me over.
When the sun shines yellow and warm
and bees buzz among the clover,
our schemes begin to take form.
You see my buds emerge today
and tomorrow they’ll only grow.
Moss can’t hurt me; I won’t decay.
Beauty is my power to bestow.
The world will soon be full of color;
just wait, we’re staging a takeover.
BREATHE: Michelle Garren-Flye 