Purple Mist (poem) by David Lee Thompson on AuthorsDen

Purple Mist
by David Lee Thompson → (All Poetry by David Lee Thompson)
Sunday, April 17, 2022 Rated "G" by the Author.

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Normally, when driving along, we don’t see the redbud tree in detail. No, it is more of a blur of color. Further, it is interesting to note that the redbud tree is known as the Judas Tree since legend has it that Judas Iscariot hanged himself from a redbud tree.

This file is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution No changes have been made Purple Mist Perhaps it was from sheer numbers That she first sighted the redbud trees Then she mentioned their tiny blossoms And how they grow in such abundance— Enough to cover every big limb and small The longer she talked the more I could see She had a special love for redbuds Their flowers . . . what are the colors she asked I told her they looked pink to me But like so many other times she disagreed No they’re more of a Magenta . . . Mauve Lilac . . . Eminence . . . or maybe Periwinkle Plus other names unaware Finally she called out a shade of redbud I wouldn’t have thought to say—one that Gave but a blur of color from afar— Purple mist . . . yes that’s the name And one I have continued to call to this day— That and the Symbol of Springtime in America I told her I liked purple mist . . . It sounded poetic She said why don't you write a poem about it So that's what I did! ©️Copyright 2022 By David Lee Thompson

Reviewed by David Thompson

Reviewed on May 2, 2024

Reviewed by Nancy Anderson (Reader)

Reviewed on May 1, 2024

Love the clear snapshot of color discussion between writer and unknown speaker who seem to know each other well. Love the whimsical, unexpected and satisfactory ending which made me smile.

Reviewed by Connie Faust

Reviewed on December 29, 2022

Dear David, Guess what? I'm back again. Maybe it's because I was a small town gal in a poor family that I feel kind of a connection with you. ANyway, about Redbud Trees-- We slowly have added to our yard, and now have three wonderful redbuds. We find that they are always late with getting their leaves, and then their gorgeous flowers. One of ours is weeping, although it was just labeled American Redbud. The other two reach for the sky. I've often gone behind the weeper, feeling hidden away from all my cares.
Speaking of cares, my Brother, I just turned 82 and am always searching for "the right word." It's not fun! After sending a lot of Christmas cards out, I try to remember if I really sent one to this friend or that friend. We have to accept old age. It comes in varying stages, colors, and hard times,but God knows all about it, and He is here to help us thhrough it all. Connie

Reviewed by Diana Wiles

Reviewed on April 19, 2022

A delightful and charming poem David,
Purple mist sounds so ethereal and enchanting…
It is amazing what we see when we really look
and take notice…
The symbol of Springtime in America…
Hope abounds…

Diana…🍃

Reviewed by Sandie May Joyce (Sandie Angel)

Reviewed on April 18, 2022

It's all about POV. I'm seeing pink trees in the picture.

Sandie

Reviewed by Ronald Hull

A lovely poem with give-and-take about the first sign of spring.

I was surprised to find redbud trees here blooming before anything else in February in Houston. Just like the one by my garage at my cottage in West Virginia. We do have azalea but it has to be carefully cultivated because the soil here is alkaline. But they are not as brilliant. And dogwood, native to East Texas, but not usually see here the city.

That photo shows the beauty of redbud beautifully.

Ron