The sun went down, and the night came grey,

I pulled the blinds on another day.

The chill was mine when I thought no more,

Of the face in the crowd, I was looking for.

.

Her face I had seen from before, you know,

A wraith-like form I once worshipped so.

A long-lost dream that I sought in vain,

A past life lived, I now wished again.

.

A life for which I would give my soul,

In the church of my heart, how that old bell tolled.

A love-life lost from the long ago,

The Reaper called, and she had to go.

.

For her face in the crowd, I searched in vain,

Her face was the past to be seen again.

When my eyes, her heart and my soul were one,

I searched for a love that had been and gone.

.

It was a face that I knew but was lost to me,

On my soul engraved for my heart to see.

For my eyes to seek and my heart to yearn,

For my hopes to soar as I reached each turn.

.

When my eyes met yours in the crowd that night,

My soul danced free, and my heart was light,

You crossed the span from the long ago,

Your soul touched mine, for I love you so.

.

Michael Walsh Poetry

THE PHANTOM OF OPHELIA Michael Walsh. The most promising paranormal mystery of the millennia. Drawing on his real-life and location experiences in Liverpool and sinister Dartmoor, this romantic-supernatural biography will ravish the reader. A page-turning journey into the supernatural world. LINK TO BOOK https://www.lulu.com/shop/michael-walsh/the-phantom-of-ophelia/paperback/product-rm8ywke.html?page=1&pageSize=4