In the stillness of her chamber, shadows fall,Emily Dickinson meets the night with grace,Whispers of eternity softly call,As time folds into her gentle embrace.Her quill, now resting, speaks no more,Yet echoes linger in the silent air,Verses of life, death, and dreams galore,In her absence, her presence everywhere.Beneath the stars, her spirit finds release,Among the words she wove with tender care,In solitude, she sought a quiet peace,A world unseen, yet vividly aware.The garden blooms, a testament to her craft,In every petal, her essence lingers on,Emily Dickinson’s legacy, a sacred draft,A gentle soul whose light is never gone.