Tag Archives: travel

Happy National Poetry Month: Poem 11

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10:34 a.m. I anticipate many interruptions today, so I’m going to get right to it. I saw, of all things, a Disney commercial today. It talked about playing. I also saw a VW bus parked in my neighbor’s carport. Intrigued, I stopped to talk to him about it. He said something about going to see a hippie band in it.

My brain combined the two things. 

Sometimes you gotta stop to play
take a ride in a van to see a hippie band
splash in the puddles, act a little cray

the world's troubles on you may weigh
nothing may go as you had planned
so sometimes you gotta stop to play

you deserve to go on a break today
take a long walk along a beach of white sand
splash in the puddles, act a little cray

your life can sometimes go astray
or maybe you just imagined it more grand
sometimes you gotta stop to play

dress up is fun, or when the day is gray
play tag or castles, then go out and
splash in the puddles, act a little cray

games aren't just for kids, I say
when troubles make it hard to stand
that's when you gotta stop to play
splash in the puddles, act a little cray

11:11 a.m. make a wish.

11:12 a.m. It’s another villanelle. They’re both harder and easier than you might think. I’ve got to go over this one now. Make sure it’s got the right rhythm and rhyme.

Cray Play
by Michelle Garren-Flye

Sometimes you gotta stop to play:
take a ride in a van to see a hippie band,
splash in the puddles, act a little cray.

The world's troubles on you will weigh;
nothing may go as you had planned,
so sometimes you gotta stop to play.

You deserve to go on a break today!
Take a long walk along a beach of white sand,
splash in the puddles, act a little cray.

Your life can sometimes go astray—
or maybe you just imagined it more grand?
Maybe you ought to stop to play.

Dress up is fun, or when the day is gray
play tag or castles, then go out and
splash in the puddles, act a little cray.

Games aren't just for kids, I say!
When troubles make it hard to stand,
that's when you gotta stop to play,
splash in the puddles, act a little cray.

11:26 a.m. Done. What do you think?

Photo and poem copyright 2026 Michelle Garren-Flye

Lost Mountain Girl Poems

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Last week I went home for a vacation.

Home is the mountains of North Carolina. At least, that’s where my hometown of Brevard is. As I’ve now lived on the coast for longer than I grew up in the mountains, I sometimes wonder where “home” really is. If my blood was once the red clay of the mountains, surely it’s now mixed with the Crystal Coast seawater.

It wasn’t totally my choice to set down roots here on the coast, but I can’t say I’m totally sorry I have. And I definitely don’t feel as at home in my old hometown as I do here in my new one.

But oh, those mountains. I spent a fair amount of time outside during our stay. I walked with my son and his dog in the little neighborhood where we stayed. We all hiked through the gardens of Biltmore Estate one afternoon. The steps we got that day! We spent a day touring the Western North Carolina Nature Center. The animals were mostly asleep while we stood gaping at their beauty.

And in the evenings, a glass of wine in hand, I sat on the front porch looking out at the trees, wondering if I ever moved home would the roots I had put down in the sandy soil of the coast re-acclimate to the mountain soil?

Starting over is not something I’m great at, so I won’t be doing it anytime soon. I love my life here, and I don’t want to leave it.

But oh, those mountains. They call me still.

Written six months ago post Hurricane Helene, whose destruction I saw in person for the first time last week. Photo and poem copyright 2025 Michelle Garren-Flye. Not for use without permission.
Oh, those mountains. 🙂 Someday. Photo and poem copyright 2025 Michelle Garren-Flye. Not for use without permission.

“Our Magic”: The perfect end to an awe-inspiring summer.

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When I was a teenager, a boy I liked wrote something in my yearbook that I will never forget: “Have an awe-inspiring summer.” I’m sure he hardly thought about it at the time and probably doesn’t remember writing it now, but it had a profound effect on me.

Did I have an awe-inspiring summer then? No. Not really. I worked in the public library, read a lot of books, spent a week at the beach with my family. I didn’t really know how to go about having an awe-inspiring summer then.

This summer was awe-inspiring. For me, anyway. Why? Mainly the travel. I spent almost two weeks in the mountains where I grew up, a week in Wyoming where I went to Yellowstone and got to see Old Faithful and a bear, and finally a four-day trip that took me back to the mountains, then to the U.S. Space and Rocket Center in Huntsville, Ala., and finally through Cherokee, N.C. and back home. Peppered in between I played school librarian and published Tracks in the Sand. It’s been a good summer. A productive summer. And it comes closer to approaching an awe-inspiring summer than any I’ve ever lived before. Even my kids think so.

And today I got an email from R. Paul Wilson, producer and director of “Our Magic”, a documentary about magic by magicians. I’m very excited about this documentary for several reasons, not the least of which is that it’s about one of my favorite subjects. I’m also proud to be a backer of this project. The opportunity presented itself just when I started my Sleight of Hand series, and I jumped at the opportunity to be involved in a project with real magicians.

Check out the trailer here: Our Magic.