The Hazy Lady Of The Silver Screen Poem by Phil Whelan

Sapphire eyes, diamond smile,
A fleeting glimpse, but I`ll wait awhile,
A spider`s web, a vampire`s kiss,
Movie magic, eternal bliss.

What am I but a shadow of dust,
A broken dream gone to rust,
Chasing illusions through a cinema reel,
Just another heart for you to steal.

Now I sleep, perchance to dream,
Of the hazy lady of the silver screen,
I know you`ll always steal the scene,
hazy lady of the silver screen.

The flame has dwindled in my hollow shell,
Like a comatose waiting for the final knell,
Yet a spark flickers when I hear your voice,
Just to listen, smile and rejoice.

A voluptuous vixen, a fantasy in blonde,
the answer to a question asked for so long,
A fairy tale, a wish,
a chrysalis in gold,
All the glitzy miracles
that Hollywood ever sold.

Now I sleep, perchance to dream,
of that hazy lady of the silver screen,
The face of an angel, the grace of a queen,
that hazy lady of the silver screen.

If we were to meet, how would it play?
Would you bring sunlight to my wintery day?
If I were the lock, would you be the key?
Could you solve this riddle called me?

Or is this just a screenplay projected in my head,
A town I`ve never visited, a life I`ve never led,
Does the camera ever lie, is there a soul I cannot see,
Just another normal girl, yearning to be free?

Yet I can still sleep, and I can still dream,
of the faces you`ve worn, of the things you`ve seen,
A perfect image, an unblemished sheen,
My hazy lady of the silver screen.