David Lewis Paget

Bronze Star - 2,520 Points (22.11.1944 / Nottingham, England/live in Australia)

David Lewis Paget Poems

41. Bad Blood 9/30/2005
42. Bad Christmas! 12/24/2014
43. Barton Leas 3/14/2009
44. Bats In The Belfry 7/16/2014
45. Beached Morning 9/17/2005
46. Bed & The Wardrobe 1/18/2015
47. Bed Of Roses 8/11/2014
48. Beddgelert - (Pron. Beth-Gelert) 2/8/2012
49. Before I Forget... 6/26/2006
50. Before Trafalgar 12/15/2014
51. Before We Part 9/30/2005
52. Behind The Hedge 5/4/2015
53. Bell, Book & Candle 12/21/2014
54. Bells And Motley 12/12/2014
55. Beside The River Wye 11/8/2014
56. Betrayed! 10/9/2012
57. Bibles 3/12/2006
58. Big Mack 8/26/2012
59. Birdsong 7/5/2015
60. Black And White 6/3/2014
61. Black Gold 6/17/2012
62. Black Tide 2/4/2013
63. Black-Haired Girls 12/9/2005
64. Blake - (Before Birth) . 9/30/2005
65. Bleak Psychosis 2/17/2013
66. Blind Man's Buff 10/5/2012
67. Blood, Red Blood... 9/6/2014
68. Blue Mountain Coffee 12/18/2005
69. Body Swap 3/9/2015
70. Bones! 1/16/2009
71. Books & Nooks 4/5/2013
72. Born For Raising Hell! 10/4/2014
73. Buried Alive! 12/29/2009
74. Bush Meeting 2/22/2013
75. Butterflies 1/3/2015
76. By Miners Hands 9/18/2005
77. Byron Bay 10/12/2005
78. Castle Walls 9/18/2005
79. Catherine Gables 9/17/2005
80. Charlie's Room 3/19/2014
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

Sir John De Vere

Sir John de Vere has took a quill
And set himself to sit and write
The sweetest love that is of men
To take unto his heart's delight.

And he has took a damsel fair
That flitteth by, beseemingly,
And with a strand of golden hair
Begun to weave her mystery.

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