An Evening With Emily

Doth if not thrill thee, Poet, Dead and dust though thy art, To feel how I press thy singing Close to my heart? By Richard Le Gallienne (The Passionate Reader To His Poet) An Evening With Emily I spent an evening with Emily (Dickinson, you know) I told her she was my idol Her words had touched me so So simple were the musings Written deeply from her soul Each thought struck like lightning And had the power to console She wrote of life and love As though she lived them to the full In truth, she rarely left her room Yet her words were powerful She didn’t need to travel far To smell the sea and air She closed her eyes and summoned them From the confines of her chair She wrote of death as calmly As she wrote of birds and sky Describing her last journey In a chariot stopping by She led a very lonely life And never let the world intrude But oh, what a lovely legacy she left From that world of solitude