I walked through surf,
heart pounding,
blood rushing,
and I thought of you.
The sun warmed me,
cheered me,
and sparkled on the water,
and I saw your smile.
The sea held me,
rocked me, and
gently stroked my face,
and I felt your touch.
The breeze and
the seabirds and
the little waves spoke to me,
and I heard your name.
Reprinted from Wonders
Copyright© 2018 by Cheryl Batavia
Florida Woods, Photo by Cheryl Batavia
On a humid August morning,
heading out the door,
I am greeted by the sweet fragrance
of cabbage palms in bloom.
Long strands of Spanish moss,
gracefully draping oak trees
and swaying in the breeze,
glimmer silver in the sunshine.
Vulture, Photo by Mark Boos from Unsplash
High above the trees,
vultures glide magnificently
beneath a fading slice of moon,
pale against an azure sky.
Cicadas sing ubiquitously.
I pause to rest in the shade
of a sprawling oak tree;
the cicada chorus is deafening here!
I pass a sandy clearing
where gopher tortoises
like to sun themselves…
They seem to be in their burrows today.
Photo of black-eyed-susan by Cheryl Batavia
Some wildflowers are still blooming,
scattered along the edge of the woods…
my favorite black-eyed-susans
and some bright gold coreopsis.
Beauty berries, tiny green spheres
clustered along the branches,
are ripening to a vivid magenta,
a favorite food of birds.
Gulf Fritillary Buterfly, Photo by Jonathan Borba from Unsplash
Gulf Fritillary butterflies,
orange against the green,
flutter along the quiet street
as I head for home.
Copyright© 2020 by Cheryl Batavia
As vapor in clouds
condenses and turns to rain,
so may I adapt.
As wind carries seeds
to faraway locations,
let me move forward.
As soil welcomes seeds,
may my mind be receptive
to new ideas.
May sunshine relentlessly
enlighten me, mind and soul!
Copyright© 2020 by Cheryl Batavia
For several hours that morning, in blazing sun,
our group waded in the knee-deep muck
of Lemon Bay, netting sea creatures
and collecting them in pails. Then we gathered
on shore with the naturalist to observe and
discuss the animals we had found:
juvenile flounder, shrimp, tiny crabs…
I left a bit early because I had a lunch date
with a man who lived nearby.
We had been communicating on Plenty of Fish
and were meeting for the first time.
Woops! There were no showers at the park!
I cleaned up the best I could with a wet towel.
Still sweaty on top and muddy on the bottom,
I went to meet my date at Chili’s.
We met in the parking lot with a hug
and a kiss on the cheek, not my usual handshake.
We talked for two hours over chicken fajitas.
Time flew by! I felt I had known him forever!
…That’s how I met my soul mate!
Reprinted from Life in Inspiring Places
Copyright© 2019 by Cheryl Batavia
Robert and I have been together for six very happy years since that meeting at Chili’s. I was sixty-five, and he was sixty-six when we met. My husband had been dead for over twelve years before I started dating, and I had nearly given up on ever finding a soul mate… someone with whom I have so much in common!
I was visiting the pelicans on Naples Pier;
the sun was bright, and the water was clear,
I saw a school of stingrays far below,
swimming in The Gulf of Mexico.
Stingrays are flat fish with “wings”
and long, skinny tails with barbs that sting.
Swimming in schools, they stir up sand
to find their dinner of oysters and clams.
I wanted to join the rays…what a fun thing to do!
“Don’t step on them, and they won’t sting you,”
a nearby fisherman advised.
“Shuffle your feet and they’ll move aside.”
I shuffled my feet, and I stayed with the rays
’till the sun was setting at the end of the day.
Hanging out with stingrays was a lot of fun…
I was tired and sunburned, but I didn’t get stung.
I learned that serious injury from stingrays is rare,
but incidents sometimes do occur.
Although I won’t overreact if I encounter a stingray,
I won’t wade with schools of rays like I did that day.
Stingrays in touch tanks have their barbs removed.
Some stingray encounters are sting-free too.
Stingrays enjoy being petted and like to play.
I’d hang out with stingrays at aquariums any day!
Reprinted from Hanging Out with Wild Animals III
Environmentally-themed book series for ages eight to twelve
Copyright© 2019 by Cheryl Batavia
Dawn, rain on the roof,
magnificent thunder storm.
Cuddling with you.
Reprinted from Wonders
Copyright© 2018 by Cheryl Batavia
Consumed by the heat of your body,
like the firebird,
I rise from the ashes.
Seduced by the powers of your mind,
I recreate myself
and fly away with you.
Reprinted from Wonders
Copyright© 2018 by Cheryl Batavia
(with sincere apologies to Mark Twain)
In the middle of a snail population explosion,
inspired by Mark Twain’s short story,
“The Celebrated Jumping Frog of
Calaveras County,” we planned a snail race.
We thought snail races would be more fun
than frog races…longer to cheer,
longer to observe snail behavior,
and longer to shoot a snail video.
Calaveras County frogs get only three jumps…
Snails take their own sweet time
Keesha’s strategy to win the race
was to choose the largest snail.
Seth just wanted to shoot a snail video
and win an award at the county fair.
Jo planned to lure her snail with lettuce.
Clarence thought his snail would win
if he cheered louder than anybody else.
Clarence didn’t know snails can’t hear.
My strategy was to learn a lot about snails.
I did research. I drew a diagram and
labeled the shell, the foot, and the eye stalks.
I studied hard so I could pick the best snail;
I was sure my snail, Speedy, would win!
On the day of the snail race, we drew
two concentric circles on the tile floor.
Keesha had chosen a gigantic snail.
Jo had her lettuce ready.
We all put our snails in the center circle.
The first snail to leave the outer circle
would win the race. “Go, Speedy!” I whispered.
Seth had just started videoing the race
when Clarence began to cheer.
Even though snails don’t have ears
and can’t hear, they feel
sound wave vibrations
with their lower tentacles…
All the snails retreated into their shells!
“Shhh!” we told Clarence.
Speedy came out of his shell first.
Keesha’s giant snail had decided
never to come out again!
Jo’s snail was moving very slowly
away from the lettuce, leaving a slime trail
as it crawled into the outer circle.
Speedy certainly was fast, but he
couldn’t seem to move in a straight line;
he careened aimlessly around the outer circle,
leaving little silvery squiggles behind him.
Jo’s snail was about to cross the finish line.
Clarence couldn’t keep still any longer
and began cheering again for his snail.
Jo’s snail stopped immediately, just inside
the outer circle, and pulled into its shell.
Speedy was so smart, he finally wandered
outside the circle and won the race.
If you don’t believe me, you can watch
Seth’s video at the county fair.
After the race, we released the snails
far away from vegetable gardens.
Keesha’s giant snail finally came out of its shell.
Clarence apologized for making noise.
We washed the snail slime off our hands
and enjoyed an ice cream party
to celebrate Speedy’s big win.
Maybe someday, I’ll write a story,
“Speedy, the Celebrated Racing Snail
of Miami-Dade County!”
Copyright© 2020 by Cheryl Batavia
Inspired by a snail race in a sixth grade science class I taught in Miami. I am considering adding illustrations and developing this into a book for young readers, ages eight to twelve.
Peaceful manatee
grazing in Crystal River,
suckling your calf.
Friendly manatee,
Red Tide and boat propellers
are lurking dangers.
Playful manatee,
wintering in the hot springs,
hanging out with friends.
Threatened manatee
swimming in warm Gulf waters…
Keep away from harm!
Copyright© 2020 by Cheryl Batavia
West Indian Manatees, distant relatives of elephants, are found in the Southeastern United States. Antillian Manatees live in Central and South America. Another species is the African Manatee.
If I say I made my own luck, it may not be so.
Maybe someone helped me, and I didn’t know.
When I fell on my face, I could have been
sabotaged by someone I thought was my friend.
Though I’ve tried to help my fellow man
and do good deeds whenever I can,
I know I’ve made enemies inadvertently,
and maybe helped others in ways I can’t see.
I’m sure there were times that I was blind
to the needs of others; it weighs on my mind.
I’m sure I wasted energy trying to see
if somebody else was out to get me.
Life’s about making the world a better place;
it’s not about fighting to win the race
to the top of the ladder or to the bank
or sacrificing integrity for power or rank.
I take compliments with a grain of salt,
and being blamed doesn’t mean I’m at fault.
The opinions of others have merit, but…
it’s sometimes better to go with your gut!
If I’m out there seeking a pat on the back,
It may be best to forget about that!
Accolades I receive may not be
the most reliable measure of my humanity.
Reprinted from Life in Inspiring Places
Copyright© 2019 by Cheryl Batavia
Gulf Coast Poet 