Best Poems Written by Kathryn Davis

The Copper House

Still, on a bench, watching eyes inquired
To the heights of Brakeman’s Hill
That on its rounded peak 
Poised a bright copper house
And held the company 
Of a strong oak tree
It bore a twisted truck 
And roots of valiant display
The fallen leaves made swollen stumps 
As squirrels used them to play

An old man of grey 
And a young man tall
Stood looking keen in front 
Of the east copper wall
They stood in their suits 
Passing a will between
They took haste down the hill 
Through rotten wood and brush
Over flower patches that lay dead 
Passing whispers that bid hush

By a days cycle crop 
Matthew and I
Remained on the bench,
Watching the sky
And then, in a dark hour before dawn
The spance released a beam of light 
As if an impending star spoke
Of a purple shekel so bright
That shimmered in blue 
As the tail of a kite

We dashed to see 
Upon what land it fell
And sure enough 
On Brakeman’s hill
So with a glance of agreement 
We journeyed up that way
In hopes to discover 
What mystery portray
Half in a trail, we halt, and bow
For a silhouette shown forth
Approaching the place of abode  

It appeared to be a lady 
Around her thirtieth year
Her hair of almond ash, tied back in a bun
Her cloth of linen and laces undone
She carried a basket and a suitcase of paisley
While an ivory sheep dog in collar, carried two a daisy 

They entered the copper gate 
And rested in the yard
Until a rumbling of earth put them on guard
Then before our very eyes 
We saw that impending star brew 
And up from the ground
The copper house, split in two
The women and the dog 
Seemed to be collect
Even drawing from her suitcase 
Personal affects 

She strewn them about- blankets of braid 
To every line providing shade
For now the morning was warming
No time to lose- so we decided to meet her
On a whim and fuse
At the top she met us
And lead us through
The rooms of copper
Which vineyards rapidly grew
 
We tasted fruits 
We had not known
Then from afar 
Other children shown 
Though the suns gleam
 all with little smiles 
Some sat and giggled 
Others climbed the twisted oak tree
The place becoming, a home to the free 

At the end of the day, 
We took haste down the hill
Over flower patch blossoms 
Through moss and wooded lush
Passing laughter so hearty
Yielding, many cheeks a blush

Matthew and I 
Filled to the brim
Agreed for tomorrow 
To meet again

Copyright © Kathryn Davis | Year Posted 2006