body Knows Not to Ever Go Wishing at the Oak”
A narrative poem in iambic trimeter
By Harrison Davidson
Copyright 2012
Near acres green and brown
With Fall leaves falling down;
Where wind blows softly through
The grass still wet with dew.
The red and orange skies,
Which light up overhead,
Proclaim the new sun’s rise
To wake all but the dead.
In twilight’s dawning sun
A witch is all but done
With finishing her spell
By candle, scroll, and bell.
She dug the hole by hand,
And placed the oak inside.
Then covered it with land,
And watered ‘round each side.
Then scroll she did unwind,
And bell then she did chime,
And candle she did light,
And spell she did recite,
“Oh, waking spirits,
Do lend me your ears;
Now hear my lyrics
To grant me more years.
For as this tree breathes,
So shall my heart beat,
And as its roots hold,
I shall not grow old.
Let this tree make real
The hopes of who comes;
Whatever they will,
Let it soon become.
Grant what they’re wishing,
Of things they’re dreaming,
Give them their desires
As it grows higher.
And drawing out life
From loves who loved well
For me to imbibe
Forever, until.”
With now the spell complete
And spirits put to sleep,
The witch pulled on her hood,
And ran back to the woods.
As seasons changed year ‘round
And rain turned into snow,
The roots grew slow through ground
As days would come and go.
Till 1693,
As flowers bloomed in Spring,
And birds began to sing,
And bees began to sting.
In New England’s Yorktown,
Which, Chartered by the Crown,
Was growing fast and sound
As people broke new ground.
It was within this time
When boy and girl locked eyes
Across a busy street
As both hearts skipped a beat.
Her hair was chestnut brown,
And skin looked marble smooth.
In her gaze he could drown.
He froze, and could not move.
A smile then took the lips;
The lips he dreamed to kiss.
As she turned to depart,
It pained him in his heart.
He saw her turn away.
His head was filled with fear.
He ran to her, and prayed
That she might lend her ear.
“Before I saw your face
My heart’s been dead in place,
But it would die again
If you could not say when
I shall be blessed to take
You with me for a time,
And if it is our fate,
Your hand inside of mine.”
By then her smile did fade,
And his joy then decayed.
He quickly lost all hope
As she turned ‘round and spoke,
“Regrettably, I must
Deny your sweet advance.
It pains me, Sir, do trust,
To not give you the chance.
For I promised to wed
A man who’s fought and bled
In mud and blood and more
For our King William’s War.”
So with one parting gaze
She walked out of his sight;
Forever parting ways,
Forever out his life.
While watching this transpire
The witch thought to conspire
A way to feed her tree
And stop her feeling weak.
Her powers as of late
Were draining very low;
And so she sought to make
Her magic oak tree grow.
“A shame how cruel love is,
You never get, but give,
And give all that you can.”
The witch said to the man.
“Can I escape this rope
And gallows made of love
Or is my only hope
In shifting stars above?”
“Though shifting stars I know,
‘Tis not the route I’d go;
For I know surer ways
That wishes can be made.”
“Then tell me, Miss, how might
One use this magic charm?
For I’ll pay any price
To hold her in my arms.”
“Outside of town you’ll find
A tree line well defined.
In hiking through the leaves
You’ll find a special tree.
If at this tree you wish,
Then your wish will come true,
And your true lover’s kiss
Will find her way to you.”
So come sunset they went,
And in the forest spent
Much night by torches light
As they performed the rite.
“Now dig yourself a hole,
And bury one gold coin.
For all must pay the toll
To spirits they enjoin.”
Then kneeling there beside,
He clasped his hands, and cried.
His tears watered the roots
To nourish a new fruit.
“I’m wishing that she
Could love me so, too.
Forever could we
Be loving and true.
Never to depart
From one other’s heart;
But bolden and brave,
And bound to the grave.”
With now the wish full made,
The witch did part a smile
She told him, “Now we wait;
For love may take a while.”
Though not but two days passed
When love did come at last;
And knocking on his door
Was her that he adored.
With no ring on her hand
And flowers in her hair,
She greeted, and began
To tell what brought her there.
A battle had been lost,
With soldiers’ lives the cost.
Though frontline news was grim,
‘Twas happy news to him.
And not long after this
They were made groom and bride;
Then with true love’s first kiss
Pronounced as man and wife.
Their life was good, although,
The roots still rooted slow.
Then Summer’s fruits did grow
With evil that was sowed.
And in Fall came the reap
Of envy, pride, and hate;
And jealousy did creep
Into a love once great.
And soon the fights began.
He’d blame, and he’d demand;
He’d scream, and he’d accuse,
And call her love untrue.
So every night she’d cry;
For she did not know how
To prove her love no lie
But to swear and avow.
But
he could not believe,
And so each night he’d leave
To water round the tree;
And his wish he’d repeat.
Until one day he found
A note of relevance
While spying all around
For damning evidence.
He showed what he obtained,
And she tried to explain,
“This letter is the last
I got before he passed.
It’s all I have from him.
We never spoke again.
And though I loved him then,
It’s you that I am with.”
Though words don’t cut through bark,
These words did light a spark
Which envy turned to flame
That no water could tame.
“You must think I’m dumb
To tell such a lie.
But I won’t succumb
To hearing your cries.”
“Then I’ll throw it away
If that is what it takes.
I swear to All Above
That you’re the man I love.”
Though trying to defend,
Her truth could do no good.
Her love could not make bend
A heart now hard as wood.
Then by her hair he grabbed,
And with a knife he stabbed.
She tried to scream his name;
He killed her just the same.
He took her to the tree,
And by the roots he dug
A hole near six foot deep,
Which fit her nice and snug.
But as be placed the dirt,
His heart began to hurt;
As he looked on her face,
He saw his great mistake.
He threw the shovel down,
And climbed his way inside.
He brought her above ground,
And held her till sunrise.
As townsfolk came alive
To start their chores outside,
The man came to admit
His awful, awful sin.
Emerging from the trees
A ripped and tattered mess,
With mud stains on his knees
And blood stains on his chest.
The people from the town
Gave pause, and gathered ‘round.
With everyone ahead
He stopped, and to them said,
“Let it be known my mind was poisoned here;
Though no excuse for what my hands have done.
It was not me, I was not thinking clear.
Though this be true, for mercy I ask none.
I’ve snuffed the flame that warmed my frozen heart
With shadows from a dark and evil place.
From one wish there did all this madness start.
The oak tree caught my heart with its embrace.
Inside the trees you’ll find a six foot grave.
Inside of it you’ll find my murdered wife.
Let me assure you that she can’t be saved
I held her tight, and stabbed her with this knife.
I only ask you all to find my bride,
And take me there to bury me beside.”
With eyes both sad and grim,
And all his words now said,
He stabbed the knife in him
Who stabbed his wife to death.
The town was all in awe
At what they had just saw,
But honored his request,
And buried them abreast.
Some people tried to burn;
Some tried to cut it down,
But each were killed in turn
While roots held firm in ground.
Although the oak still grows,
Its secret is well known.
Since it would not tear down
They left it up, but now,
Everybody knows
Not to ever go
Wishing at the oak.
Hello, readers!
Thanks again for reading. Take care.