Dear One,
epitome
of patience and kindness,
will you stay with me forever?
Love me.
Promise
me forever…
tenderness and passion,
undying love and loyalty.
Love me.
How long
is forever?
Much longer than never…
an indeterminate journey...
Love me.
Copyright© 2020 by Cheryl Batavia
Happy New Year,
Wonderful Fellow Bloggers!
Things have gotten a little crazy here!
I am taking a break
and will do my best to catch up on my emails.
See you in 2021. ❤ ❤ ❤
Timeless memories,
shared hopes for our tomorrows,
we live in the now.
Our energy wanes.
Wit is replaced by wisdom.
Our love flourishes.
Love lights the twilight.
In winter’s chill, we are warmed
by each other’s gaze.
Copyright© 2020 by Cheryl Batavia
After six happy years together, we are making it official. We plan to be married in 2021 after the pandemic ends, probably late summer.
We wish you all the joys of the season and a peaceful and prosperous 2021. May love light your life and warm your heart! ❤ ❤ ❤
Manger scenes telling the Christmas Story
Exchanging gifts with friends and family
Relatives and friends visiting
Remembering to hang your stocking
Yummy food in December
Christmas Pageants with lines to remember
Hanging mistletoe up high
Reindeer flying across the sky
Invitations to parties and balls
Singing Yuletide carols
Trees we decorate
Making cookies and cakes
Advent wreaths with candles
Santa and his elves
Copyright© 2020 by Cheryl Batavia
The acrostic is an old fashioned staple of school and Sunday school programs. Each child holds up a letter and recites his “piece.” The letters often spell MOTHER for Mothers Day, HAPPY THANKSGIVING or MERRY CHRISTMAS.
In nineteen thirty-six, in Sunday school,
someone said: Did you hear about Harvey?
You mean that guy who always acts the fool?
I heard that he has Hepatitis B!
Oh, wow! I didn’t know that he was sick!
They think he could die. We might lose a friend.
We’ll cheer Harvey up. Think of something quick!
A dozen roses would be nice to send.
The Sunday school class wanted to be kind…
Roses were too expensive, it was clear.
A cat with a cactus tail…What a find!
What a perfect gift to bring Harvey cheer!
Harvey, my Dad, was too stubborn to die!
Fifteen-year-old Harvey dodged tragedy!
That cactus-tailed cat was the reason why
they joined the Church…Harvey’s whole family!
Harvey became a Methodist preacher,
devoted to service for fifty years.
He was a story-teller and teacher;
he visited the sick and calmed their fears.
My Grandma gave me the cactus-tailed cat
that changed the family’s way of living.
The cat’s now a gift for my daughter that
honors her life of service and giving.
Copyright© 2020 by Cheryl Batavia
This poem is based on a true family story as told to me by my grandmother and my father. The first three verses are an imagined conversation showing how the Sunday school class decided to send the cactus cat to my father in the hospital.
The cactus-tailed cat is ready to send to my daughter, Ellen, in Texas. Ellen is an ordained Baptist chaplain and is taking seminary classes. She has taught Recovery classes for several years and is an administrator for the program.. I am not sure what her future plans are.
Disclosure: The cat is posing for this photo with an improvised cucumber tail. She is looking forward to getting a new cactus tail when she arrives in Texas.
1620 was a year of tribulation.
The Mayflower voyage was no vacation!
In America, one hundred Pilgrims arrived.
By spring, only fifty-three remained alive.
Befriended by a Native American tribe,
they grew corn and learned to thrive.
1621 was a year of jubilation,
harvest time at Plymouth Plantation,
when the Pilgrims and the Wampanoag
gave thanks together and got along.
A time for gratitude and celebration,
plans for peace and co-operation.
Peace and cooperation were transient,
but Thanksgiving was a hopeful event.
Brotherhood, the spirit of Thanksgiving,
can transform our way of living!
Copyright© 2020 by Cheryl Batavia
Harvest festivals have been observed all over the world since ancient times. Several States claim to be the site of the first Thanksgiving in the US, but Plymouth, Massachusetts, though probably not the first, is the most well-known. Native Americans rescued several struggling American colonies in the early days. The Wampanoag befriended the Pilgrims at Plymouth, teaching them to grown corn and celebrating Thanksgiving with them.
The history of our country, as in many countries, has been blemished by racism, persecution of indigenous peoples, slavery, and religious intolerance. Many people have fought these evils, and many wrongs have been righted. The fight continues. The first Thanksgiving at Plymouth Plantation is a hopeful example of brotherhood and peace.
Chill early morning.
Fog hovers over the lake…
soft, enveloping,
a cocoon of solitude
gives birth to glorious day!
Copyright© 2020 by Cheryl Batavia
New leader chosen…
New era of empathy,
integrity, and truth.
New rule of law,
new dawn of democracy…
Call for unity.
Quell the violence.
Preserve the environment.
End the pandemic.
Rejoin the global family
in achieving common goals.
Copyright© 2020 by Cheryl Batavia
Joe Biden was declared President-Elect of The United States of America today, 10/7/20. Inauguration Day is 1/20/21.
Our Grandma, Frances Ellen Tustin,
had to babysit, so she left after two years of school.
She had learned to read! She used that skill
to educate herself and lived her life to the full.
At twelve, Grandma worked as a hotel maid.
Married at seventeen, she had two sons.
She and Grandpa worked hard to support
their family during the Great Depression.
Our grandparents moved a lot, flipping houses.
Grandma wallpapered, painted, and plastered.
The last house they renovated was her childhood
home, using all the skills they had mastered.
Grandma lived there for more than thirty years,
raising chickens, planting grapes and fruit trees.
She grew asparagus, strawberries, and flowers,
and cultivated her garden into her eightees.
Grandma decorated her home with hooked rugs,
handmade quilts, and afghans she crocheted.
Her grandchildren were always proud
to wear the beautiful clothes she made.
Cooking in restaurants and caring for the sick…
Grandma had many jobs over the years.
She was a long-time Sunday school teacher
who had earned the respect of her peers.
We always ate well at Grandma’s house…
Everybody loved her black walnut cinnamon buns!
Grandma fed us chicken cacciatore and cookies.
We gathered eggs in the henhouse. That was fun!
In summer, Grandma gave strawberries
to friends and neighbors and made strawberry pies.
A huge bowl of strawberries waited for us at
Grandma’s. We couldn’t eat them all, but we tried!
The Raggedy Ann and Andy Dolls Grandma made
were in demand at local gift shops.
The dolls she made for her great grandchildren
were always loved a lot!
Most of my generation wanted to be like Grandma.
Great granddaughters, and great nieces, too,
are named “Frances” or “Ellen” or “Tustin,”
a gentle reminder: Be known by the good works you do.
Reprinted from Life in Inspiring Places
Copyright© 2019 by Cheryl Batavia
We lived near the beach
with armadillo neighbors
…not too neighborly!
At night, they dug grubs,
leaving holes and piles of poop…
We never saw them!
We filled holes, scooped scat.
They gnawed watermelon rinds
we left out to dry.
One evening at dusk,
I saw two dark shapes walking
along the hedgerow.
As I got closer,
I saw they were not raccoons…
Yes, armadillos!
They scooped out a den,
lived under our shed, eating
watermelon rinds.
One day they were gone.
We never met their children…
There were no goodbyes!
Copyright© 2020 by Cheryl Batavia
Our new neighborhood
is wooded…armadillo
home territory!
Out walking one day,
I met three armadillos
digging up breakfast.
They were cute, half-grown.
I stood there chatting with them…
They never looked up.
Recently, I saw
an armadillo stroll by,
armor slick with rain.
Undisturbed, he walked
along the edge of our yard
and into the woods.
One day I followed
a busy armadillo
all around our yard.
She went on eating,
politely ignoring me,
as she fed on ants.
She did not fear me…
No one shoots armadillos
around here, I guess!
That night and the next,
the armadillo dug dens
and abandoned them.
Armadillo’s gone!
House hunting in the woods?
We said no goodbyes…
An armadillo digs its way
into your heart.
Maybe she’ll be back!
Copyright© 2020 by Cheryl Batavia
Masked monsters and ghouls
brought no fear last Halloween…
Now, fear grips us all!
Now it’s the unmasked
we fear at the food market…
Covid’s stalking us!
Oooooooooh! wear your mask in public!
Eeeeeeek! Keep six feet betweeeeen us!
Copyright© 2020 by Cheryl Batavia
For a nostalgic Halloween poem read, “Ghosts of Halloweens Past/Ghosts of Halloween Present” if you missed it.
Scary statistic: a recent study found that 20% of grocery store clerks have undiagnosed Covid19 without symptoms and are capable of spreading the disease.
Gulf Coast Poet 