David Lewis Paget

Gold Star - 6,493 Points (22.11.1944 / Nottingham, England/live in Australia)

David Lewis Paget Poems

1001. The Witch Of Dreams 2/18/2017
1002. The Witch Of Steen 4/8/2016
1003. The Witch Of The Morning 1/12/2017
1004. The Witch Of Willow Vale 1/29/2015
1005. The Witches Hat 12/26/2013
1006. The Witches Of Little Begone 9/9/2012
1007. The Witching Days 3/25/2013
1008. The Witching Of Ambrose Crudd 3/9/2013
1009. The Wizard Of Barkly Chase 8/21/2013
1010. The Wizard Of Clayton Close 9/17/2005
1011. The Wizard Of Did! 12/19/2014
1012. The Woman I Didn't Know 2/28/2017
1013. The Woman Who Never Was 8/22/2015
1014. The Wood Of Forgotten Deeds 11/20/2012
1015. The Woodland Mass 3/11/2014
1016. The Word 5/9/2015
1017. The World Outside 3/22/2014
1018. The Yellow Bag 6/18/2015
1019. The Yellow Doll 5/26/2014
1020. Theatre Of Dreams 11/14/2013
1021. Thicker Than Water 2/21/2015
1022. This Is Where Reason Stops! 4/7/2014
1023. Threatening Rain 1/9/2015
1024. Three Ships... 11/2/2008
1025. Three Starlings 10/4/2005
1026. Thy Will Be Done! 8/15/2009
1027. Tick Tock! 12/10/2009
1028. Time Knows No Passages 9/17/2005
1029. Time Out! 3/16/2013
1030. Time Was... 2/26/2017
1031. To Bed! To Bed! 1/25/2015
1032. To Fox And Hounds 8/19/2015
1033. To My 7 Children 3/16/2009
1034. To My Wives 12/24/2007
1035. To Sleep, Perchance To Dream 3/25/2013
1036. Tongues Of Thorns 9/18/2005
1037. Tongue-Tied 3/14/2015
1038. Too Late 3/7/2017
1039. Too Many Women 9/21/2014
1040. Topsy Turvy 5/25/2014
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

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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