Author Emily Dickinson Heaven is what I cannot reach! The apple on the tree, Provided it do hopelss hang, That "heaven" is, to me. The color on the cruising cloud, The interdicted ground Behind the hill, the house behind, -- There Paradise is found! Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 No votes yet Rate Log in or register to post comments