Has it really been almost a month since my last post?? Horrifying.
Well, not really, because I think that was about the time I realized I needed to get my next poetry book together. I’ve been working on it for the past year, and I knew it was done, just needed to be put together.
So…with that said, here it is!
Presenting:
Here’s the description: “Author and poet Michelle Garren-Flye has always been fascinated by poetic forms. In Thick & Thin, Michelle explores the relationship between two of her favorites, haiku and sonnets, using the one to inspire the other. Two forms from very different cultures, yet somehow very similar. Is it possible William Shakespeare might have befriended Matsuo Basho if he’d been given the opportunity?”
Thick & Thin is currently available on Amazon. It’ll take a few weeks to get them printed for the store, but then you’ll definitely be able to get a copy there!
Mother’s Day is a day of mixed feelings for me. I have kids who can’t always be with me all day on Mother’s Day anymore because, guess what?, if you raise your kids right, they go off and get jobs and significant others (who inconveniently also have mothers) (that’s a joke), and sometimes even homes of their own. I am fortunate to have three wonderful children who all love me and who all take the time to wish me a happy Mother’s Day, whether they are with me or not. I am proud of them and their accomplishments, even when I wish I could spend more time with them.
My own mother passed away in February two years ago. And I’m divorced, so, although I still care very much for my ex’s mother, I haven’t seen her, and communication is difficult. I went from having two mothers I celebrated to having memories of them, mostly.
On Mother’s Day, honor your mother. But also remember the motherless children and the childless mothers. In honor of all mothers and all children, I made an attempt at a Petrarchan sonnet. I’ve always found them difficult, and I’m far from certain I got it right.
Mother’s Day Petrarchan By Michelle Garren-Flye
All the world seems full of scent and flower; there is no thought of tears or sorrow here. Have you ever seen the blue sky so clear? Absolutely no chance of a shower. Ease is an arboreous bower! Spring is not the time for sadness, my dear; please recognize this is the month for cheer, and worship this time, adore each hour. But...is this day not one of amity? Remembrance can cast a dusky shadow… although I think it’s mostly vanity. I say this now with all due gravity: A mother’s love is much more than most know; Death cannot reduce its capacity.
This year, I decided to buy my mother roses. I have her picture in my bookstore, and I put the roses next to it. She was never able to visit my store but I know she would have loved it. So I keep her picture on a shelf and remember her every day. I know I am fortunate to have had a mother like her. One I want to remember.
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
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
Sometimes, I admit, my sonnets take me strange places. This is not at all the poem I set out to write.
Sonnet 10
Holding On
Arise, summer, from ash of spring, which came from sleeping winter’s bed. Sunny, hot days are what you will bring; the bounty of autumn still lies ahead.
Bring forth sunny, lovely days at the beach hunting for seashells along sandy shore. All happiness is within my reach; just roll back the stone, open the door!
But how is it you’re still a month away? I guess I must be content with dreams. Despite the warm temperatures of today, spring isn’t yet ready to let go it seems.
I won’t give up, I’ll continue my work and wait for summer to heal my hurt.
Photo and poem copyright 2025 Michelle Garren-Flye
What promise does the rose make when spring season takes a turn to warm? Petals of silk, make no mistake, will take on the force of every storm.
Not so delicate a flower, it seems, the rose withstands life’s trials and blasts Rose’s thorny branches guard her dreams; her passion holds her steady on her paths.
Her promise is made only to herself— she locks it deep in her heart. She may never achieve fame or wealth but her world will always be full of art.
Don’t doubt the strength of a rose’s flame: her passion and dreams you cannot tame.
Photo and poem copyright 2025 Michelle Garren-Flye
“Let the dance begin,” declares Iris, and roses join lilies on the dance floor; while daisies and buttercups, desirous, guard the violets we all adore!
Iris watches with stately grace the festivities of her royal ball. Spring proceeds at a hurried pace she vainly wishes she could forestall.
Daffodils have long ago passed— even dogwoods have gone to bed. The best of us are not made to last, she thinks with a shake of her head.
Each spring season must move on and make way for summer’s spawn.
Photo and poem copyright 2025 Michelle Garren-Flye
BREATHE: Michelle Garren-Flye 