Her Kingdom

She wrote by the light of a single lamp

ll night at the desk in her attic room.
From her pen came the worlds and characters
Who traded their light for her world of gloom.

Each night the chapters became so real

That she felt each planet beneath her feet
And moved from the cold of an icy plain
Into the mystery of desert heat.

They greeted her nightly by pale moonlight

Or covered by storms yet she always saw
Courage and strength in their weakest hour
Beauty and love in every flaw.

I found her kingdom long ago

After she’d faded beyond this life
And thrilled to the dream worlds she had carved
With only her mind for a carving knife.

© 2012 Pam H. Murray

(Note: Inspired by Emily Dickenson and Charlotte Bronte, both of whom I've loved since childhood)