emily-dickinson.gif Emily Dickinson image by alessepif
Emily Dickinson 


When I count the seeds
That are sown beneath— 
To bloom so, bye and bye—

When I con the people
Lain so low—
To be received as high—

When I believe the garden
Mortal shall not see—
Pick by faith its blossom
And avoid its Bee,
I can spare this summer—unreluctantly.