This Poem came to me after reading about her tumultuous life...Her solitude became our peace..
After Hours After hours- After the final checkout- After the library's final close- Forever is too long- for a poets repose- Go ye there, Emily- In this line -And not that one- Not with regular mortals- Inclined to caskets or crypts to die- Yet abscond ye there- Through a clandestine portal- And forever- on library shelves lie- And one minute- before the library opens- May ye creep ‘cross the library floor- Then right turn and left turn- Along those corridors- And return ye then- that borrowed pen- Then sleep on those shelves again-
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