This Is How We Pass the Time

Jernee Timid Loadholt gazing at the scene before her on our early morning walk. Photo Credit: Tremaine L. Loadholt

Haiku, 3 Parts

little precious one
stops to admire the scene
first day of summer

a cool breeze greets us
the air isn’t too dry yet
we pause for effect

it’s how we pass time
taking cautious steps toward
rolling hills of green

©2022 Tremaine L. Loadholt Originally published on Simily.

Spring And Its Many Gifts

In Bloom. Photo by Tremaine L. Loadholt

The dog and I walk our path just as we do each morning–the gift of sun and a slight breeze await us. We breathe in the fresh air and breathe out the peace of another day beginning. In this part of the South, Spring greets us just as she should, but she has on her wings a thick strip of pollen to sprinkle everywhere as she sashays by. 

I am an allergy sufferer–one of 50 million in the United States. The culprits? Pollen and shellfish (when not eaten in moderation). As much as I love to feel the sun’s rays beam down on my skin, during the spring months, I suffer the worst. The dog–also not too keen on pollen, does her share of sneezing and coughing. While I take a Claritin-D every morning, I also do nasal spray, and eye drops, and I sometimes have to take two Benadryl at night if the pollen count has been extremely high during that day. 

I’m no stranger to Spring’s many gifts and I appreciate life awakening from the dead when she comes around. She lends us the beauty of sunny and longer days, the peace that can be found in birdsong, the cheerful laughter of children’s voices, beautiful blooms on trees and bushes, and wearing less clothing because of warmer temperatures.

But she can be vindictive, too.

It comes at a high cost when you’re an allergy sufferer. Spring can be your best friend or your worst enemy. I try to find the beauty in her without slashing away at her for the many days I struggle to breathe. I try to focus on the positive rather than the negative. I love the newness that surrounds me when she makes an entrance. 

At least I know, I’ll garner more photos to look back on when I need a quick pick-me-up.

Spring–dawn’s gift to us
comes at a high cost sometimes
yet we welcome her.

Originally published via Simily.

Mothers, I Celebrate You

The workaholic
Who never has enough sleep
Cares for everyone

My gift to you is this love
Your existence saves

Mothers, God bless you
You bloom when we all wither
Weeping willows sing

Happy Mother’s Day to those of you who are mothers, those of you mothering others who are not your own, caretakers and rescuers and do-gooders. Thank you for who you are and what you do. I celebrate you.

A World of Terror

Musical Selection: Sarah McLachlan|I Will Remember You

A Revised Haibun (for Chrissy)

I tell myself, I am glad you did not live to see this world as it unravels right before our eyes. Destruction is at every turn; children bombed, mothers, sons, families scrambling to leave home . . . the home they have always known. We would have talked about this — voiced our disdain for the evil of this world, yet we would have mentioned our gratefulness too. There is this gaping hole in my heart I have been struggling to fill, and the only thing I can do is write — write about you; about your smile, about your love, about the way you never bit your tongue.

All I can do is just write, and pray this hole fills itself with something — someone — anything else soon.

a piece of my heart
is buried in this cold world
my cousin is gone

©2022 Tremaine L. Loadholt, Originally published via Simily, revised version published in The Junction via Medium.

Your Poem From Me Request #7

The Giving Cause: This Mother’s Love

Haiku, 7 Parts

I’d gift-wrap the sun
and host it over your heart
giving you pure light

Harper, my first girl
this mother can find no words
expressing my love

a reason to live
enhanced by your smiling eyes
I’m yours forever

and to you, baby
God made the perfect painting
when he gave me you

Everly, sweet girl
you were here before, I think
old soul, moon seeker

this mother’s love is
an unscalable mountain
an ocean of care

my girls, my world is
a bold sunbeam of wonder
I will not fail you

Thank you to J. Bug, (a co-worker of mine) for allowing me to gift a poem to you. I will never know what it feels like to be a mother, but I am glad I got to experience writing this poem.

To learn more about Your Poem From Me: The Giving Cause, click here. Let me write a poem for you. I can give it life.