Month / March 2025

by Cheryl Batavia

Morning! A Ziggurat Poem

Egyptian pyramids. Photo by Fynn Schmidt from Unsplash
Step pyramid, Mexico. Photo by Raquel Moss from Unsplash

Morning!

Birds singing…

Phone ringing!

Open your eyes.

to today’s surprise,

a gorgeous sunrise!

Don shoes and pants.

Step around fire ants!

Feed birds, water plants.

Bye, birds! Parting glance.

Taking a shower, getting dressed…

Phone ringing… don’t get stressed!

Hucksters calling; I’m not impressed.

Morning walk… escaping these pests!

Cloudless sky, sunshine… mind rests.

Sitting down to eat breakfast, stress-free,

anticipating world news updates on TV…

Politicians debating… can’t seem to agree.

Storms, fires, wars, crimes… Goodness me!

Ads played loudly, repeat, repeat endlessly…

Enough! Time for a wildlife documentary!

Protest. Photo by Kayla Velasquez from Unsplash
Sea Turtle. Photo by Randall Ruiz from Unsplash
Zebras. Photo by Sutirta Budiman from Unsplash
Polar Bears. Photo by Hans Jurgen-Mager from Unsplash

Copyright© 2025 by Cheryl Batavia

This is a ziggurat poem, a fun form invented by Paul Szlosek that I like to play with occasionally. His website is Paul’s Poetry Playground. Ziggurat poems are often written about humorous topics. The poem has the shape of a ziggurat, or step-pyramid. Each verse has lines with the same end rhymes.

The title is the first verse and has one word. The second verse is 2 lines of 2 words. The third verse consists of 3 lines of 3 words. The fourth verse has 4 lines of 4 words, and the fifth verse has 5 lines of 5 words.

I broke the rules by adding a sixth verse to this poem. 😎

Wishing everyone a beautiful day… informed, productive, but inspired and entertained as well. 💕

by Cheryl Batavia

Tides of Change

Photo by Michael Tuskynski from Unsplash

Tides of Change

Waves wash up on shore,

tides in eternal rhythm as before…

rising, falling evermore.

Across the blue sky…

I watch a magnificent eagle fly,

wayward teardrop in my eye.

Flag waves in the breeze…

iconic symbol of our liberties.

So, why then, does my blood freeze?

Lost ideals, long past.

Waves of autocracy advancing fast,

but tides will change…nothing lasts!

Tides of change demand…

democracy returning to our land.

Once more, united we’ll stand!

Copyright© 2025 by Cheryl Batavia

American Cowgirl. Photo by Tim Mossholder from Unsplash
by Cheryl Batavia

Walking Hand-in-Hand

Photo by Roman Kraft from Unsplash

Walking Hand-in-Hand

Walking hand-in-hand…

Even a short stroll with you

means the world to me!

Copyright© 2025 by Cheryl Batavia

Robert’s 2024 Birthday Poem

Last September, recently discharged from the hospital and recovering from quintuple bypass heart surgery, I had very limited energy. Robert’s birthday was in a few days. I always write poems and make cards for him for his birthday and Valentine’s Day. “Well, I think I can write a haiku, at least!” I decided.

My recovery includes a daily walking program. Because of Robert’s COPD, post-polio, heart problems, and other issues, Robert can now only walk short distances. Many times he walks a short way with me, and I continue the walk on my own.

Having Robert walk with me brings me happiness and encouragement. This is the poem I wrote for Robert’s birthday and printed out on white copy paper…no handmade card this time. I put it on his computer keyboard where he would find it when he woke.

I was hospitalized again in November to stent two of the grafts that had become blocked. By Valentine’s Day, though, a longer poem and a handmade card were back! Robert keeps all of the cards I make in his office. He even kept this haiku printed out on plain white paper…and I keep all the cards he has ever given me!

by Cheryl Batavia

A Day on Daylight Savings Time

Photo by Aedrian Salazar from Unsplash
Photo by Marie Michele Bouchard from Unsplash
Photo by Jay Brand from Pexels

A Day on Daylight Savings Time

Crisis of the day

resolved by evening phone call.

Movie with popcorn.

Midnight Scrabble game.

Drowsy, drifting off to sleep,

soothed by pleasant dreams.

Awakening late.

Soulmate snoring beside me,

ticking of the clock.

Cozy under quilt.

Slowly, consciousness returns…

haiku on my mind.

Bright, cheery sunshine.

Birds sing morning melodies,

fly in for breakfast.

Copyright© 2025 by Cheryl Batavia

by Cheryl Batavia

Abandoned Dreams of Flying

Vulture. Photo by Mark Boss from Unsplash
Monarch butterfly on milkweed, a host plant on which monarchs lay their eggs.
Photo by Winifred Helton Harmon from Unsplash
Osprey carrying a fish. Photo by Stephen Crane from Unsplash.

Abandoned Dreams of Flying

With vultures, I’d gladly traverse the sky,

surrounding atmosphere so clear, so pure.

Above blue mountains, eagerly I’d fly,

but dining with vultures holds no allure!

Two butterflies take flight on dazzling wings,

in nectared frenzy, sweetly procreate.

Though watching them flying, my spirit sings,

to fly, then die, would be a tragic fate!

With ospreys, I’d fly over seas and streams;

An ocean-view nest is all I could wish.

Their seaside lifestyle haunts my dreams,

but dreams of flight don’t mean I like to fish!

Of course, I could just book an airplane flight.

On second thought, a walk would be just right!

Copyright© 2025 by Cheryl Batavia

by Cheryl Batavia

Hurricane Milton

Photo of a hurricane by NASA from Unsplash

Hurricane Milton

Monster storm approaching

from the Gulf of Mexico…

Days of rain and wind,

watching hurricane news…

endless models and predictions.

Considering our options,

we decide to shelter in place.

Gusty winds howling

around the corners of our house,

blowing rain against the windows,

dry palm fronds falling.

Darkness descends, storm subsiding.

Power fails;

we go to bed early.

Soothing breezes rustle trees.

Ecstatic the worst is over,

talking, laughing, loving

by the glow of a tiny flashlight.

Lying in bed, holding hands,

enjoying bands of thunderstorms,

last vestiges of the hurricane.

Grateful to be alive,

happy we still have each other.

No TV, no internet, no phones…

Our thoughts turn

to the people northeast of us,

wondering how they fared

in the path of the storm.

Copyright© 2024 by Cheryl Batavia

Epilogue: After the Storm

A week later, our power returned, and we became aware of the devastation in nearby cities and communities. Milton was a major hurricane. Due to storm surge, high winds, and numerous tornadoes spawned by the category 3 storm, people in several states lost their homes, businesses, vehicles, and boats. Roads and other infrastructure are damaged or destroyed. More than a dozen people lost their lives.

Electrical, roofing, and general construction companies, military personnel, and relief workers from many states have come to help those who suffered losses in Hurricane Milton. There are many heroes in our region in 2024!

This poem was written shortly after Hurricane Milton, which hit Florida on October 9th. I was on break, and didn’t post it.

Robert’s sister and daughter visited for three days last week. We wanted to take them to a nearby beach, but beach restoration is still not finished. A tsunami-sized wave had washed sand up on the beach higher than the two-story restaurant where we had lunch. The bulldozers are still leveling sand, and the beach is still closed!