MY nosegays are for captives;
Dim, long-expectant eyes,
Fingers denied the plucking,
Patient till paradise.~Emily Dickinson
To such, if they should whisper
Of morning and the moor,
They bear no other errand,
And I, no other prayer
We don’t know much, if anything, about Dickinson’s intention for her poems, but this one suggests a purpose–and an intended audience.
Who are your nosegays for, and why?
The Emily Project 