David Lewis Paget

Veteran Poet - 1,884 Points (22.11.1944 / Nottingham, England/live in Australia)

David Lewis Paget Poems

1. The Black Stone Tower -new- 5/29/2015
2. The Black Freighter 5/11/2015
3. The Proposal 5/14/2015
4. The Devil's Yacht -new- 5/17/2015
5. The Cyclops -new- 5/17/2015
6. The Tale That Couldn'T Be Told -new- 5/20/2015
7. The Face In The Frosted Glass -new- 5/24/2015
8. Gone Fishing -new- 5/26/2015
9. The Man Who Lived In The Cave 4/7/2015
10. The Spawn Of War 4/8/2015
11. The Perfect Circle 4/13/2015
12. The Lord Of Judgement 4/16/2015
13. The Recluse 4/20/2015
14. The Devil's Gate 4/25/2015
15. The Starlings Have To Be Fed! 4/28/2015
16. Behind The Hedge 5/4/2015
17. The Pearl 5/7/2015
18. The Shadow Makers 12/23/2014
19. Crimson Dawn 12/23/2014
20. Bad Christmas! 12/24/2014
21. The Guilt Trip 12/25/2014
22. Dead Man's Eyes 1/2/2015
23. Butterflies 1/3/2015
24. The Wages Of Sin 1/3/2015
25. Auto-Da-Fé 1/4/2015
26. Hadron Hell! 1/5/2015
27. Nadine 12/28/2014
28. The Tale On A Bloodied Screed 12/29/2014
29. The Phantom Bus 1/6/2015
30. Powerless! 1/7/2015
31. Threatening Rain 1/9/2015
32. The Temptation 1/10/2015
33. Table Tapping 1/11/2015
34. Talking Heads 1/14/2015
35. Never Come Here Again! 1/15/2015
36. The Duke Of Spur 1/16/2015
37. Mcavanagh's Hill 1/19/2015
38. The Watcher 1/20/2015
39. Jonathon's Dilemma 1/21/2015
40. To Bed! To Bed! 1/25/2015
Best Poem of David Lewis Paget

Swan Song

Her hair was as black as a starling's tail,
Her cheeks as pale as a swan,
Her eyes, like two slim moonstones, glowed
And her mouth was the Holy Grail.
She'd played in the dirt of the village street
So long ago, so long...
She'd swum in the pools of the mountain stream,
But now, that girl had gone.

While I still rise with the early bird
To tend to my father's fields,
As the only son of an only son
I watched the woman leave.
She cried sweet tears as she said farewell
And vowed to come back, and soon,
But the village streets of a western ...

Read the full of Swan Song

The Water Tower

I sit and stare at this empty page,
The wind howls long at the winter eaves,
The cloud is heavy, and black with rage
As squalls dance in through the myrtle leaves.

While deep inside in the cottage gloom
My love lies weary, cocooned in dreams,
I hear her cry in the darkened room
Call out one name from a nightmare scene.

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