I like to drive from northern cold
In late winter or the early spring,
Down to warmer southern climes,
Where trees are already blossoming.
My sullen heart will get an early lift,
When I reach the middle states;
And see how Nature, south to north,
Sweetly shrugs off her winter weights.
White blossoms will accent forest edge,
And how yellow the early forsythia will be;
But, what moves me most, every time,
Is the bloom of the lovely redbud tree.
Pinkish-red flowers on long, lean branches,
It can take any shape it needs to be.
It can grow tall, and it can reach out wide,
But the flowers are what most impress me.
Those colors unique to the forest setting,
And none too numerous for one to see;
So, one is constantly on the lookout for
That one-of-a-kind, southern redbud tree.
Nature, in all its wondrous glory,
Has produced much prettier things, for sure;
But, something within me moves each time
I feel the flowering redbud tree's allure.
3-27-2016 (Wrentham, MA)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
It's a beautiful time of year. I don't know if I've ever seen the tree you're describing. I'll have to look up a photo of them in bloom though. There's something about a big ball of flowers up in the air that's pretty awe inspiring. I've spent a share of time in an apple orchard and around April they erupt into delicate white petals. I could smell them while I read your poem. Great poem as always and very nice use of image and rhyme
thank you Mike... look up Cercis on Wiki... the North American version is Cercis Canadensis.