Man of My Dreams

Robert Snyder. Photo by Cheryl Batavia.

Man of My Dreams

Wise like a hundred-year-old oak

growing in front of the county courthouse,

witness to the comings and goings

of humankind, a student of history.

Live oak tree. Photo by Iris4me from Pixabay.

Mind as nimble as an otter playing

“now you see me, now you don’t”

among the plants, above and below

the surface of the water.

Otter. Photo by Andreas Schanti from Unsplash.

Honest and forthright as a dandelion

springing up in a manicured lawn,

never pretending

to be a lily or a rose.

Dandelion. Photo by Jan Ledermann from Unsplash.

Conscientious like a honeybee

gathering nectar from summer flowers,

nourishment to sustain the hive

when winter fields lie fallow.

Photo by Michael Coltman from Unsplash.

Playful as a kitten high on catnip

unraveling a ball of string.

Peaceable as a sleeping puppy

with a tummy full of mother’s milk.

Photo by Natalie Spehner from Unsplash.

Reassuring and comforting

like the cycles of the moon.

Warm and loving

like the morning sunshine.


Copyright© 2022 by Cheryl Batavia


❤ Happy 74th Birthday, Robert! ❤


Robert is making steady progress after his pacemaker surgery twelve days ago. The strips of tape sealing the incision will come off in two more days. We thank everyone for your good wishes and encouraging words. ❤

Is Death as Beautiful as Love? & A Tale of Lovers’ Leap

Photo by Joao Jesus from Pexels.

Is Death as Beautiful as Love?

“Death is as beautiful as love.” I vehemently disagree with this closing line from a poem I wrote in high school. I tried hard to remember the rest of the poem and understand what was meant, but unfortunately, that is the only line I can remember. I will tell you right up front that I think there is nothing that is as beautiful as love.

Seeking insight, I tried to imagine what a beautiful death would look like, perhaps stepping in front of a bullet intended for someone else or dying in defense of your country. Those are selfless and honorable ways to die.

Making a living will ensures a peaceful death when there is no hope of recovery and provides an end to the sufferings of family members. That is a responsible and loving way to die.

Maybe it would be beautiful to die holding the hand of the one you love and plunging to your death from one of the many famous “Lovers’ Leaps.” Well, maybe that kind of death isn’t beautiful, though it might be preferable to being forced into a loveless marriage. Having heard tales as a child about a “Lovers’ Leap” in West Virginia, this is the sentimental favorite among the candidates for a “beautiful death.”

Death is natural and something we all will experience, but we shouldn’t expect it to be beautiful. I believe that what is beautiful is the love that motivated the people involved in the scenarios mentioned, and not the death itself. As I stated at the beginning, I don’t believe that anything is as beautiful as love.

Going forward, since I couldn’t reconstruct the original poem, I decided to write a poem that included the line from the original poem, “Death is as beautiful as love.” After many failed attempts, I settled for writing a poem about an imaginary young couple at Lovers’ Leap, a sort of “Romeo and Juliet of the mountains.”

Photo by Svyatoslav Romano from Unsplash.

A Tale of Lovers’ Leap

Hand-in hand, Darling,

we climb to dizzying heights

above the valley,

where our feuding families

have forbidden us to wed.

Sweethearts forever,

standing on the precipice

above our valley,

hand-in-hand, we’ll leap into

eternity together.

Will they weep for us

down in the valley of hate?

Will the feuding end?

Will they bury us side-by-side

down in a valley of love?


Copyright© 2022 by Cheryl Batavia

Personal Note: I began writing this post in the hospital waiting room while Robert was undergoing emergency pacemaker surgery on Wednesday. He came home on Thursday and is recovering well. I may have been thinking some dark thoughts as I wrote, but the sun is shining now! A full recovery is expected in four to six weeks.

Serendipity

Photo by Joe Hepburn on Unsplash

Serendipity

Our date

with fate,

improbable, but true.

Dreams long overdue,

serendipity times two.

Talking, our hands clasped,

how swiftly hours passed!

Our commonalities so vast,

soulmates meeting at last!

Forever calls, and heart replies.

Story emblazoned on the skies.

You are everything I fantasized:

Gazing into each other’s eyes,

together growing old and wise.


Copyright© 2022 by Cheryl Batavia


Hello, fellow bloggers. I am still involved in some longterm projects, so am not responding to as many emails as I would like. I will be sharing some results of these projects soon. Also, there are some technical issues to deal with. I know I am not the only one with this problem! Please be patient with me. Thank you so much. ❤

Among Friends

Photo by Bruno Martin from Unsplash.
Photo by Zachary Nelson from Unsplash.

Among Friends

Day-by day, we live on earth.

Face-to-face and virtually, we greet each other.

Eye-to-eye, we often see.

Toe-to-toe, we engage in friendly competition.

Side-by-side, we work together.

Arm-in-arm, we walk along.

Hand-in-hand, we share life’s journey.

Moment-by-moment, we face life’s uncertainties.

Heart-to-heart, we know we are not alone.


Copyright© 2022 by Cheryl Batavia


❤ Happy Valentines’ Day! ❤

Happy Valentines’ Day to all my WordPress Friends

&

to my Best Friend, Robert!

Robert and Cheryl in front of a banyan tree about 2015.

A Desert Rose

Cultivated desert roses in a garden. Photo by Meggie from Pixabay.

A Desert Rose

Our little world envelops us in love,

transcending chaos that surrounds us now,

safe haven from earth’s dark duplicity,

a green oasis, peace in desert heat.

Affection in your eyes, my hand in yours,

a gentle word, a loving touch…encouragement

along our earthly path’s uncertainties.

Your inner strength sustains my fainting heart.

When threats of war surround on every side…

vile pestilence, pollution, and unrest,

ambition fades, possessions matter less,

but love endures and blooms, a desert rose.

This poem is dedicated to Robert, who fills my everyday life with happiness and joy.
Robert in a park on the Myakka River. Photo by Cheryl Batavia.
Desert rose in the African Sahel. Photo by bory67 from Pixabay.

Copyright© 2022 by Cheryl Batavia


Like the Shakespearean sonnet, BLANK VERSE is a sixteenth century form of poetry written in iambic pentameter. Unlike a sonnet, blank verse is unrhymed. It was used extensively by Shakespeare in his plays and is found in the work of John Milton and other poets of that time.


Robert’s cataract surgery is scheduled for February 1st, and the hectic schedule of appointments begins. I may be very erratic on WordPress in February. Thank you to all who sent good wishes to Robert.

Message in a Bottle

A Fantasy

Photo by Scott Van Hoy from Unsplash.

Message in a Bottle

A Fantasy

A barefoot wanderer on the sands of time,

moment to moment, no reason or rhyme,

searching for a message in a bottle along the shoreline,

but pebbles on the beach were all I could find.

Looking for the light of my life, year after year,

I sang along with the music of the spheres,

seeking someone to sing with me as we embark,

two-by-two onto an archetypical ark.

I rowed my small boat…on dry land I planted my feet.

Miracle of miracles, soon we were dancing cheek-to-cheek!

All was bright where once were darkness and strife.

I smiled at you, the light of my life!

From each rising sun to the next rising sun,

on top of the world, under the gun,

or tossed by capricious seas, we’ve had a good run.

We’ve sailed life together, and it’s been fun!

Hand-in-hand on the beach we walk as before;

a message in a bottle washes up on the shore.

With hearts aflutter and chaos of mind,

we uncork the bottle, unsettled by what we find.

With the music of the spheres our hearts are attuned,

but the message in the bottle portends impending doom.

It says, “Tis a short voyage from cradle to tomb.”

We face an epic tidal wave…The end has come so soon!

Photo by Kampus from Pexels.
Photo by Jeremy Bishop from Unsplash.

Copyright© 2021 by Cheryl Batavia

It Means a Lot to Me…

Robert Snyder. Photo by Cheryl Batavia

It Means a Lot to Me…

While some look for easy answers,

you thirst for knowledge

and seek truth.

While some are at war with themselves

and their neighbors,

you live in peace.

Some struggle to keep track of their lies.

You simply tell the truth…

You have my trust!

You say you love me

and show it every day.

I love you too.

Though life is filled with challenges,

you face each day with good humor,

a smile, a joke, and a wink.

If I am sad, you make me smile.

When good things happen to me,

you share my joy.

When something breaks, you fix it.

I never have to do the dishes alone…

That means a lot to me.

You were not born to make me happy,

but every day is a happy day

because I’m with you.

I don’t believe in fate, but it does seem

to me that we were made

for each other.

Robert, wishing you lots of happiness

on your seventy-third birthday

and always.

Love, Cheryl ❤


Copyright© 2021 by Cheryl Batavia

Oblivion Can Wait

Male cardinal. Photo by Joshua Cotten from Unsplash
Purple Ruellas. Photo by Cheryl Batavia

Oblivion Can Wait

Wakeful

in the dim light

and stillness of morning,

I lie beside you, listening

to your breathing, holding your hand.

You turn over and sleep.

Warm and drowsy,

I doze.

I dream

you take my hand,

and together we rise

toward peaceful oblivion…

I waken suddenly…Not today!

Today, cardinals sing

their cheery songs

outside.

Today,

the grass is green.

In anticipation

of sunrise, ruellas open,

glowing purple in golden light.

Today belongs to us.

Oblivion

can wait.

Today,

the sun comes up.

I drink my tea and write.

You are sleeping, but when you wake,

we will spend the day together.

Today belongs to us.

Oblivion

can wait.

Purple Ruellas. Photo by Cheryl Batavia

Copyright© 2021 by Cheryl Batavia


We are in a holding pattern at our house. Robert’s cataract surgery has been postponed because of an infection in a root canal. The infection, which didn’t show up in dental x-rays, was finally discovered with a 3-D scan. After the root canal is redone, antibiotics, and no infection for several weeks, cataract surgery can be rescheduled. Thank you for understanding if I am a little erratic on WordPress for a while.

Presence

Separated by distance or time, family, friends, and that special someone are forever with us. Photo by Ruth Enyedi from Unsplash

Presence

Present with me or

absent from me, you are

always in my thoughts.

However long I may live,

I will always feel you near.


Copyright© 2021 by Cheryl Batavia