Tag Archives: sonnet

Happy National Poetry Month: Poem 17

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12:42 p.m. I guarantee I’ll be interrupted, but I’m trying to finish this before lunch. I have only a line in mind:

“Making yourself small enough to fit.”

It was inspired by the book I just finished, Weyward by Emilia Hart. An excellent read and all about learning not to try to fit into society’s expectations of you.

12:46 p.m. Here goes:

Make yourself small enough to fit
the hole that has been provided for you
even when that lifestyle doesn't sit
well, and nothing about it seems true

But what if, say, you didn't slim down
and instead put on your loosest jeans
and didn't mind what was said in town?
Say fuck it all and spread your wings!

Even if you've spent the past few years
cutting edges off your square peg
feeling pain, self disgust and shedding tears
the ache in your knee when you bend the leg

Stop cutting yourself, stop holding back
let the ground fall away as you take flight
Bet you never thought you'd have a knack
for living life with all your might.

Don't bother trying to make yourself fit
life is better if you just live it.

1:10 p.m. Yep. Several interruptions. Also, I didn’t know it was a sonnet. A little cleanup:

Square Peg
by Michelle Garren-Flye

Make yourself small enough to fit
the hole that has been provided for you;
even when that lifestyle doesn't sit
well, and nothing about it seems true.

But what if, say, you didn't slim down
and instead put on your loosest jeans
and didn't mind what was said in town?
Say fuck it all and spread your wings!

Even if you've spent the past few years
cutting edges off your square peg,
feeling pain, self disgust, and shedding tears—
oh, the ache in your knee when you bend the leg!

Stop cutting yourself, stop holding back!
Let the ground fall away as you take flight.
Bet you never thought you'd have a knack
for living life with all your might.

Don't bother trying to make yourself fit;
life is better if you just live it.

1:14 p.m. Done. Whew.

Happy National Poetry Month: Poem 14

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10:40 a.m. One of the past years (can’t remember which) I wrote fortune cookie poetry. I cracked open a fortune cookie every morning and wrote a poem based on the fortune inside. Thought I’d try that live. Here goes:

Listen to the wisdom of the old
their words and memories may bore
but somewhere in them there is gold
that makes listening worth the chore

10:53 a.m. Took a short break to make a cup of coffee. Here we go. Again.

Believe inside each person of age
their real self still in their prime
resides within what might be a cage
stuck there counting minutes of time

11:11 a.m. make a wish.

11:12 a.m. I’m having a hard time not being trite with this one. Sonnet may not have been the best choice. Oh well, I’m committed now.

When bodies grow old and mind cobwebs
and life has entered its reprise
the tide that once crashed now ebbs
thoughts and wisdom don't come with ease

11:18 a.m. That one was not easy.

Still pay attention to the old man on the street
Because as we know, history is doomed to repeat

11:20 a.m. That’s not awful. Let’s see what it looks like all put together.

11:35 a.m. Okay, now let’s see what it all looks like with punctuation and rewrites. (Sorry, had a couple of interruptions. 

Reprise
by Michelle Garren-Flye

When bodies grow old and mind cobwebs
and life has entered its reprise,
the tide that once crashed now ebbs
and wisdom doesn't come with ease.

Yet, listen to the wisdom of the old;
their words and memories may bore,
but somewhere in them there is gold
that makes the hearing worth the chore.

Believe inside each person of age
their real self still in their prime
resides within the fleshy cage
created by the passage of Time.

Pay heed to the old man on the street!
As we know, history is doomed to repeat.

11:45 a.m. I like the rewrite much better. I had a hard time with the title, though.

Photo and poem copyright 2026 Michelle Garren-Flye

Happy National Poetry Month: Poem 6

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10:50 a.m. I’ve been thinking a lot about my corner of the world. My concept is that if everyone concentrated on making their corner of the world, no matter how big or small, a better place, the entire world would follow.

I know how lucky I am in my corner of the world. I have a beautiful home (currently with some plumbing issues, but you know…), and I have my store. I’ve worked very hard to make both warm and happy and beautiful.

Anyway, I think I’m going to use this concept for my next poetry book. And in that vein, today I want to write a poem about my corner of the world.

11 a.m.

If my corner of the world is dark
I find a lamp to give it light
if the walls are white and stark
I add a painting to save its plight

Silence is sometimes what I need
but I welcome a cat's sweet purr
and musical ditties that bleed
into nights when insects chirr

Soft grass outside, carpets within
greet tired feet after a long day
pillows for heads laid down in chagrin
I'm finally done with this long fray.

Make your corner of the world safe and true
to what you wish to see in the larger view.

11:11 make a wish.

11:12 Moving on. Now for a rewrite:

My Corner of the World
by Michelle Garren-Flye

If my corner of the world is dark
I find a lamp to give it light.
If the walls are white and stark
I add a painting to make it right.

Silence is sometimes what I need,
but I welcome a cat's sweet purr
and musical ditties that bleed
into nights when insects chirr.

Soft grass outside, carpets within,
greet tired feet after a long day.
Pillows for heads laid down in chagrin—
and finally done with the long fray.

Make your corner of the world safe and true
to what you wish to see in the larger view.
Photo and poem copyright 2026 Michelle Garren-Flye

11:16 a.m. Okay! See you tomorrow!

Happy National Poetry Month: Poem 2

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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

Poem: A Sonnet for My Last Hinge Match

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Now that my novel is done and off to the printer, I’m taking a short break from writing seriously. Although, maybe this is a serious poem? Who knows, really.

A Sonnet for My Last Hinge Match
By Michelle Garren-Flye

Let’s not fall in love, just listen a while:
I can’t sell myself short, it’s no longer my style.
I’m not even sure anymore what I want,
and I’m not saying that just to taunt.

I guess my desire is for a hero of old
a god shining above in a chariot of gold
or winging across the sky on Pegasus.
That’s why there can never be an us.

I expect starlit dance floors, fountains of wine,
and you to be faithful, handsome, and kind.
Settle for something less than? I won’t.
I think I’m destined to wind down my life alone.

I know your bargain doesn’t include all that,
so I’ll happily spend the night alone with my cat.
Copyright 2026 Michelle Garren-Flye

Surprise: New Poetry Book!

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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!

Poem: Mother’s Day Petrarchan

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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.

Happy Mother’s Day, Mama. Copyright 2025 Michelle Garren-Flye

National Poetry Month Day 30: Poem 30 Sonnet 15

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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 28: Poem 28 Sonnet 14

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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 26: Poem 26 Sonnet 13

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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