I met Emily Dickinson on the edge of the wood
With paper and pen in hand
Know not what she wrote but knew it was good
As I've always been a fan
Looking at me she gave a sly wink
As if I understood
How strange it was that nature does not knock
And yet does not intrude
She then curtsied in a goodbye gesture
Handing me a rhyming book
Whispered,,,happily ever after
Before she vanished in the wood
Worked this poem around an Emily Dickinson quote
How strange that nature does not knock, and yet does not intrude!