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
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