emily dickinson

i found the poetry of emily dickinson through the song by paul simon ' for emily wherever i may find her ' which i sometimes sing unaccompanied.
i was always intrigued by the title and assumed he was referring to a woman he had once loved. the truth, if it is the truth, is more profound and poignant - that it is possible to fall in love with someone who lived in another century, through their writing and then to look for that spirit in a contemporary person.


Come slowly, Eden!
lips unused to thee,
Bashful, sip thy jasmines,
As the fainting bee,

Reaching late his flower,
Round her chamber hums,
Counts his nectars --enters,
And is lost in balms!

emily dickinson


what a dream i had
pressed in organdy
clothed in crinoline of smokey burgundy
softer that the rain
i walked down empty streets
passed the shop displays
i heard cathedral bells
tripping down the alleyways
as i walked on
and when you ran to me your
cheeks flushed with the night
we walked on frosted fields
of juniper and lamplight
i held your hand
and when i awoke
and felt you warm and near
i kissed your honey hair
with my greatful tears
o i love you girl
o i love you

paul simon


Emily Dickinson (December 10, 1830 – May 15, 1886) was an American poet. Though virtually unknown in her lifetime, Dickinson has come to be regarded with Walt Whitman as one of the two great American poets of the 19th century. Her life has inspired numerous biographers and voluminous speculation; mostly about her sexuality, of which little is definitively known. Although she wrote 1775 poems during her lifetime, she only published 7 of them and they were published anonymously.