In the quiet of Amherst she dwelled, serene,
A recluse in her room, where words convene.
Pens and paper her trusted friends,
Crafting verses that time transcends.

Nature’s wonders whispered in her ear,
The buzzing bees, the fields so dear.
A soul so deep, yet seldom seen,
In solitude, her spirit keen.

Letters sent but seldom received,
A heart of passion, never deceived.
With every line, her essence flowed,
Secrets of life she gently bestowed.

Now her name echoes through the ages,
Her poetry lives on sacred pages.
Emily Dickinson, a world apart,
A timeless muse with an endless heart.