Poetry at the end of April

Today it is Emily Dickinson…

Wild Nights!

Wild nights! Wild nights!
Were I with thee,
Wild nights should be
Our luxury!

Futile the winds
To a heart in port,
Done with the compass,
Done with the chart.

Rowing in Eden!
Ah! the sea!
Might I but moor
To-night in thee!

Thanks to babbler “kje” who posted this in her profile yesterday.