Emily Dickinson
And one, a hedge away.
There's only one recorded,
But both belong to me.
One came the road that I came—
And wore my last year's gown—
The other, as a bird her nest,
Builded our hearts among.
She did not sing as we did—
It was a different tune—
Herself to her a music
As Bumble bee of June.
Today is far from Childhood—
But up and down the hills
I held her hand the tighter—
Which shortened all the miles—
And still her hum
The years among,
Deceives the Butterfly;
Still in her Eye
The Violets lie
Mouldered this many May.
I spilt the dew—
But took the morn—
I chose this single star
From out the wide night's numbers—
Sue—forevermore!
Emily Dickinson (1830-1886)
Good night everyone . . . hopeing to see you all tomorrow.
Good evening Miss Feather and Fellow Lairites . . . sorry to have been so scarce over the last few days. I've been finishing up my "Scubby Dutch" persona in getting the house ready for Sissys' arrival on Sunday . . . plus . . . my church has been having its semi-annual Bible Conference this week . . . so, needless to say I've been a little busy . . . Kathy where's my white glove??? . . . ;-)