My poem:


“Heaven”—is what I cannot reach!

It is hard to reach—

I can’t stop— myself to think about it!
The Sunset, on the beach—
The corps Land in spring—
On top of the mountain—the Palace behind—
There—discovered —Heaven!


Going home will truly be incredible, —

Be that as it may, I —ought to work here— while I hold up—

Still I am longing to— an ever increasing extent—

To make my excursion to that brilliant shore—
“Heaven”— Emily Dickinson