In quiet rooms where shadows play,
She penned her thoughts in light and gray,
With gentle hands and whispers soft,
She wove her words, both kind and oft.

A friend unseen, yet felt so near,
Her letters crossed the gap of years,
In solitude, they found delight,
Two hearts entwined in silent night.

Through pages worn and ink so pure,
Their bond remained, steadfast, sure,
Though miles apart, their spirits met,
In every line, no word regret.

Her friendship, like the morning dew,
Refreshed the soul, a bond so true,
In every verse, a touch of grace,
Emily’s heart, a sacred place.