David Lewis Paget

Silver Star - 4,473 Points (22.11.1944 / Nottingham, England/live in Australia)

David Lewis Paget Poems

921. The Wishing Well 5/2/2014
922. The Witch & The Windmill 7/31/2013
923. The Witch At Arbor Low 7/18/2012
924. The Witch Of Aberdare 10/3/2014
925. The Witch Of Steen 4/8/2016
926. The Witch Of Willow Vale 1/29/2015
927. The Witches Hat 12/26/2013
928. The Witches Of Little Begone 9/9/2012
929. The Witching Days 3/25/2013
930. The Witching Of Ambrose Crudd 3/9/2013
931. The Wizard Of Barkly Chase 8/21/2013
932. The Wizard Of Clayton Close 9/17/2005
933. The Wizard Of Did! 12/19/2014
934. The Woman Who Never Was 8/22/2015
935. The Wood Of Forgotten Deeds 11/20/2012
936. The Woodland Mass 3/11/2014
937. The Word 5/9/2015
938. The World Outside 3/22/2014
939. The Yellow Bag 6/18/2015
940. The Yellow Doll 5/26/2014
941. Theatre Of Dreams 11/14/2013
942. Thicker Than Water 2/21/2015
943. This Is Where Reason Stops! 4/7/2014
944. Threatening Rain 1/9/2015
945. Three Ships... 11/2/2008
946. Three Starlings 10/4/2005
947. Thy Will Be Done! 8/15/2009
948. Tick Tock! 12/10/2009
949. Time Knows No Passages 9/17/2005
950. Time Out! 3/16/2013
951. To Bed! To Bed! 1/25/2015
952. To Fox And Hounds 8/19/2015
953. To My 7 Children 3/16/2009
954. To My Wives 12/24/2007
955. To Sleep, Perchance To Dream 3/25/2013
956. Tongues Of Thorns 9/18/2005
957. Tongue-Tied 3/14/2015
958. Too Many Women 9/21/2014
959. Topsy Turvy 5/25/2014
960. Toxic Assets 3/28/2009
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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